Forward Motion
by Flutterby Ashes
Summary: The Digidestined are in their twenties and discovering that their lives will take them in all sorts of directions. Some struggle with moving forward with their lives, while others attempt to grow up too fast. Better than it sounds; my summaries are lame.
1. Prologue

Hello everyone! This is going to be one of my first Digimon fanfictions in a long time. I wish I wouldn't have deleted all of my old ones from the site though; it would be interesting to see how my writing style for these characters has changed. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the story, and please remember to read and review! It helps me out a lot with my writing style to get comments back from my readers.

Warnings: Semi-AU (digimon don't become common knowledge for the world, so instead of being a 'digimon doctor' Jou is just a regular doctor, etc.), violence, abuse, being mean to one of my favorite characters, major angst, yaoi couples, etc. but nothing absurdly graphic. Also, I can't write Michael as a nice person. I always try, but I just can't. Sorry, Michael lovers!

Pairings: Michael/Mimi, Sorato, Jou/OC, Daikari, Kenyako, Koushirou/Iori, and Taichi and Takeru are happenin' bachelors. For now. Some of these will change.

Ages: I fudged the timeline slightly. Jou is 27. Yamato, Sora, Taichi, Koushirou are 26. Michael is 25. Mimi and Ken are 24. Miyako is 23. Takeru, Daisuke, and Hikari are 21. Iori is 20.

Anyway, on with the story!

.oO***Oo.

**Forward Motion  
**Flutterby Ashes

_Prologue_

Mimi tapped her pen nervously on her desk, impatiently waiting for her lunch break to start. Her eyes drifted out the large window beside her, and for a moment she calmed herself by looking out along the New York City skyline. Why was it that today, of all days, she had to have her slowest morning in months? Suddenly bored of the skyline, he eyes roved around her desk, taking in the multitude of pens, pencils, and books before finally settling on her computer. Sighing to herself, she decided to try and do a little more work before it was time to leave. If she could focus on it, of course.

She pulled up one of the files on her most recent client and studied the photographs carefully. Then, she opened the attached food diary for the woman and crinkled her nose in disgust. "Four fast food cheeseburgers, with extra bacon and fries doused in ranch dressing three days in one week? No wonder you weigh over four hundred pounds," she muttered. Sometimes, her job could really get to her. She much rather preferred counseling people with diabetes or gluten allergies, and creating specialized diets for them, as opposed to trying to work miracles on people who have never thought of eating something that isn't deep fried or smothered in butter. She sighed again, and looked at the weight loss goals for the woman in question and resisted the urge to laugh outright. "Two hundred pounds in six months?" Groaning, she was already beginning to dread meeting with this woman next week to discuss her goals.

It happened a lot in her line of work, she had realized in the past two years since she had finished university. People see the word 'nutritionist' and mistakenly think that she would be able to fix all of their problems. There was no worse feeling than realizing the health and exercise plan that she spent hours fine-tuning to meet someone's specific needs would eventually get thrown into a pile full of Atkins diet books and Slim-Fast cans. That was something that she was starting to hate about America - too many people were more interested in taking the easy way out, through liposuction or crash diets, and when Mimi tried to tell them otherwise, all of her hard work would blow up in her face.

Focusing on her computer, she started to detail a dietary plan that would limit this gargantuan woman's diet without causing her to starve. Focusing on her work, she had almost forgotten about the phone call she had received this morning. Michael had been out of town for nearly two months now, following in his father's footsteps of becoming a movie star. Mimi hadn't minded too much, at least not until last week, when she had inexplicably become sick, suffering from hot flashes and nausea, and occasionally her stomach would cramp so badly that she could barely walk. Oddly enough, the feeling would pass when she ate, and it almost always came in the middle of the night, so she hadn't had to miss work for it. She had been to the doctor's a few days before and they had been stumped as well, so they took blood samples and decided to run a few tests before making a diagnosis. This morning, she had received a phone call from her doctor, telling her that her test results had come in and that she needed to make an appointment as soon as possible to speak with him.

Her mind had been swirling around a thousand different scenarios all morning long. Her thoughts constantly drifted to her mother, who had passed away shortly before her twentieth birthday. She had suffered from similar symptoms before finally being diagnosed with stomach cancer and passing away only weeks later. The whole time they had thought it couldn't be anything more than a hefty bought of stomach flu. Mimi had hoped all morning that she wasn't about to receive similar news.

Her fingers stilled over the keyboard as she paused in her typing and her thoughts moved past her mother and on to her father. She wondered where he was now. Shortly after she had started high school, she and her mother discovered the reason why he had suddenly uprooted the family to move from Japan to New York. He had another family, a woman that he had been seeing since before he and her mother had been married and her four children, all fathered by him. Two were older than Mimi and two were younger. Uncovering this made her grow to detest her father immensely and caused her to reject many things that she valued because of him. She no longer had her love of the color pink, because he was the one who bought her all of the pink things he could find. She lost her passion for designer clothes and shopping, because it was her father who bought her first fashion magazine that captivated her. She began to detest make-up and straightening her hair and her weekly manicures because those were all things he made her think were important. The only thing she kept of his was her last name, and she only kept that because it was how her friends always knew her.

She laughed to herself, remembering the spoiled brat her father had made her in to. It was so much nicer to not worry about keeping up with the fashion trends or waking up three hours early to perfect her hair and make-up and select the perfect outfit for the day. Her mother had supported her through all of her changes, and in turn she had supported her mother through their divorce. They had become nearly inseparable during those changes, and she missed her mother more than she ever cared to admit.

Her work all but forgotten, her thoughts continued to drift to her friends that her father had forced her to leave behind in Japan. Sora was her best friend, and even through all of the changes and distance between them, they had never missed a 'Monday Night Phone Call' to each other and had stayed close. They had even been the bridesmaids at each other's weddings, hers to Michael and Sora's to Yamato. It was also Mimi that Sora called first when she learned she was expecting the couple's first child, a beautiful baby girl named Etsuko. Takeru was another one of her closest friends, and she wasn't really sure how that had worked out. It had started just after Hikari had practically broken his heart, choosing Daisuke over him in a move that shocked all of their friends. He had turned to her while Yamato was out of town and she had been there for him, despite being ten thousand miles away. He had just finished university and was currently working as a freelance writer for an online blog.

Yamato had gotten deeper into music, and although his band didn't manage to stay together after high school, he had gotten an exciting job for a publicist firm that specialized in music sales, that he loved immensely, and Sora loved the fact that he would be coming home every night instead of going off on tour. Jou finally lived up to his father's dream and had become a doctor along with both of his older brothers. He recently finished up his internship at the hospital in Tokyo and had started his residency shortly after Mimi and Michael had gotten married the year before. Hikari and Daisuke were still together and doing nicely. Daisuke recently proposed to the girl after their university graduation, and the young girl was all aflutter with wedding plans and ideas. Hikari began work as a physical therapist at the same hospital as Jou, and Daisuke was currently working as a contract administrator for a prominent managing firm in Tokyo. Koushirou and Iori were currently dating, much to the surprise of the others. Koushirou was working for a bio-robotics laboratory, trying to design the world smartest robot, while Iori was finishing up his time at university and preparing to enter law school. Miyako and Ken had married just before Mimi and Michael. A few weeks after they returned from their honeymoon, Miyako discovered that she was pregnant and decided to devote all of her time and effort into the baby. Their first child, a daughter named Manami, was born about six months ago. Ken was working as a detective for the Odaiba Police Department, which of course worried Miyako immensely. Finally, Taichi was enjoying the life of a 'permanent bachelor,' as he liked to call it, while working as an assistant for Japanese Ambassador to the United Nations at his office in Tokyo. He was frequently gone on travel around the world, accompanying the Ambassador on various mission trips around the world.

Mimi's eyes drifted to the lone framed picture situated on her desk. It was her favorite picture of the twelve of them, and it had been taken at her wedding nearly a year and a half ago. Everyone had been able to make the trip to New York, much to Mimi's delight, and they were all smiling and laughing and happy to be around one another once again. It was the first time she had seen all of them in nearly two years, and Yamato and Sora's wedding. She had unfortunately had to miss Miyako and Ken's wedding due to a Nutritionist's conference she had to attend for work. She studied each of their faces and wondered how they all might have changed in that time. Miyako was sure to sport some grey hairs, due to her constant worry about Ken and the baby. She wondered if Takeru had finally gotten out of his apartment and gotten a tan, instead of sitting inside and working all day as he was prone to. Had Yamato's face softened at seeing his daughters first steps and hearing her first words? She mused that Jou would still be awkward and shy, and thought that his bedside manner must be terrible. She smiled to herself.

Her cell phone began to beep incessantly, shocking her and nearly causing her to start out of her chair. Looking at it, she noticed that the alarm was going off, signaling that it was time to take her lunch break and get to the doctor's office. The momentary calm she had gathered while thinking of her friends seemed to dissipate immediately and she began to get nervous about what she would have to tell Sora next week on the phone, hoping that it wasn't too serious. She dreaded having to call Michael and give him bad news when he was half-way across the country and she was nervous to have to spend the night on her own. Resolving herself to her fate, she gathered her belongings and left her small office, locking the door behind her. She smiled and appeared carefree to all of her coworkers that she passed as she walked, carefully disguising her concern. The elevator didn't move fast enough, and she decided that a taxi would feel the same way, so she walked six blocks in her heels to the doctor's. In what seemed like no time at all, she was standing before the frosted glass door, and for a moment she could not bring herself to open it.

'Ugh,' she chided herself, 'You're being ridiculous! Stop acting like it's the end of the world and get in there.' Pushing open the door, she signed in and seated herself on one of the plush cushions, busying herself with a fitness magazine and tapping her foot.

"Miss Tachikawa?" the receptionist called. She hadn't changed her last name to Michael's something that they had both agreed on. Michael may have wanted to be famous, but Mimi most certainly didn't, and the farther out of the spotlight she could stay, the more she preferred it. Plus, Mimi McGeiger did not have a nice ring to it at all.

She stood and straightened her skirt before heading into the hallway and following the receptionist. Instead of being led into a blindingly white examination room, she was directed to a smaller lounge area, with two large chairs and a warm brown paint color on the walls. There were a few potted plants and a nice rug, along with a very large window that looked out onto the city. Mimi carefully sat in one of the chairs, pulling her purse into her lap. The receptionist left, telling her that the doctor would be with her in just a minute and to make herself comfortable.

Mimi's nerves redoubled. She had only been in a room like this once before, and it was when the doctor had told her mother that she was likely going to die. She began to nervously fidget with her fingers, play with her purse strap, and pop her shoe on and off, doing anything that she could possibly think of to try and stop thinking about what was about to happen. 'He's going to come in here and tell me that I'm going to die; I know it,' she thought to herself. The creaky opening of the door nearly scared her senseless.

"Well, well, good afternoon, Miss Tachikawa!" he greeted cheerfully. Mimi managed a quiet "Hello" in reply. He sat down in the chair across from her, a blue manila folder in his hands. He peered up at her through his wire-rimmed glasses. "Have you still been having those same symptoms?" Mimi swallowed the lump in her throat. "Yes," she replied, "But they haven't been as strong as they were before. I don't even have to eat to make it go away now. Sometime a soak in the tub or some tea helps too." She was impressed at how well she kept her voice from shaking. "Still vomiting daily?" he asked, a kind expression on his face, and Mimi wrinkled her nose. "I'll take that as a yes," he said, chuckling lightly and making a few more notes in her chart.

Finally, he sent the chart down in his lap and looked at her, still smiling softly. His demeanor had calmed her down greatly, but she was still afraid to hear what he had to say. "Well, Mimi," he began, "I wouldn't look for those symptoms to go away for another few weeks or so, but they should get weaker and weaker." Mimi nodded, still not understanding what was going. "So then, Dr. Culligan," she started, keeping her voice remarkably calm, "What exactly is wrong with me?"

His visage broke into a full smile then, the skin around his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Miss Tachikawa, there's not a thing wrong with you; in fact you're one of the healthiest patients that I have!" Mimi looked at him, completely confused. If she was so healthy then why did she feel so horrible half the time? Noticing her confusion, he reached across and squeezed her hand, his expression still kind and calm.

"There's absolutely nothing wrong, Miss Tachikawa. Your body is doing everything it's supposed to in this situation."

A light clicked on in Mimi's head. Dr. Culligan smiled, and said the words that were sure to change her life forever.

"You're pregnant!"

.oO***Oo.

Alright, I hope you all enjoyed this little entry to the story. I wanted to get a bit of everyone's background in there and establish the couples and occupations and what not, so I know it drags a little bit in the middle. Chapter One is already half done because I originally wasn't going to split them, but it was getting very long and way too full of background, so I moved most of that stuff here. Please review, even if you didn't like it, but I would appreciate constructive criticism instead of flames. Simply saying "you suck!" does not help me improve. 

Thanks! 3, Ashes


	2. The Secret Lives of Movie Stars

Warnings: Semi-AU (digimon don't become common knowledge for the world, so instead of being a 'digimon doctor' Jyou is just a regular doctor, etc.), violence, abuse, being mean to one of my favorite characters, major angst, yaoi couples, etc. but nothing absurdly graphic. Also, I can't write Michael as a nice person. I always try, but I just can't. Sorry, Michael lovers!

Pairings (for now): Michael/Mimi, Sorato, Jyou/OC, Daikari, Kenyako, Koushirou/Iori, and Taichi and Takeru are happenin' bachelors.

Ages: I fudged the timeline slightly. Jyou is 27. Yamato, Sora, Taichi, Koushirou are 26. Michael is 25. Mimi and Ken are 24. Miyako is 23. Takeru, Daisuke, and Hikari are 21. Iori is 20.

Sorry for the long delay on this chapter! I had a lot of things with this part that I wasn't totally happy with, so I might wind up rewriting the middle somewhere in the near future. I hope you all enjoy! Please read and review. Thanks!

.oO0Oo.

**Forward Motion**

FlutterbyAshes

_Chapter 1_

_The Secret Lives of Movie Stars_

Mimi checked her hair in the mirror for practically the thirteenth time that evening. She had pulled her light brown locks into a low ponytail and added a bit more curl to it. Side swept bangs framed her perfectly made-up face. She had donned a deep forest green cocktail dress that was quite plain, with short capped sleeves and an empire waist and a flowing skirt that hit just above her knees. She sighed to herself, feeling slightly embarrassed that she had gone through so much trouble to look this way for a simple evening at home.

Michael had called as she was leaving the doctor's office, oblivious to the fact that she had ever been feeling sick in the first place. They were taking an unexpected break from filming, so he decided that he would come back to New York for a few days. Mimi hadn't been able to believe her luck with the timing, and had quickly called into work to clear the rest of her schedule, hoping that her afternoon clients would understand the cancellation and that she wouldn't lose any customers. She had decided to cook Michael's favorite meal, an old recipe for shabu-shabu using thin strips of beef that her grandmother had given her before she'd left Japan. She glanced behind her reflection at the clock, realizing that Michael should be back to their apartment at any moment. Normally, Michael would call when his plane landed, but tonight he hadn't. Mimi idly thought this as strange, but figured he was just tired from a long cross-country flight at the end of a full working day.

Thanks to the wealth of Michael's family, the two of them had never wanted for much. Mimi had been lucky enough to go to college on a full scholarship and had almost no debt left over from that. Michael had gone into acting right after finishing high school, landing his first leading role just hours after getting his diploma. Michael's father had been beyond thrilled at his son leaping right into the 'family business.' They had gotten married fairly young, just after Mimi had finished college, in an elaborate ceremony fit for royalty, at Michael's mother's request. Mimi was truly grateful for his family, as they had taken over the roles of her father and mother after they had departed from her life. She smiled, thinking about how much his mother would undoubtedly spoil this baby rotten.

As a wedding gift, Michael's parents had purchased them an enormous penthouse apartment that overlooked Central Park. Mimi had tried to refuse it, saying that they could not fill a four bedroom, five bathroom apartment with enough furniture to make it homey, which only inspired Michael's mother to furnish the entire thing. Mimi sighed. She knew that she had the life most young girls only dreamed of: luxurious living, a movie star husband, and a seemingly never-ending bank account; but sometimes she felt as though she were losing herself. She wished that she would have struggled to pay her way through college and make a living for herself, the way her mother had.

She scoffed at herself. 'Mimi Tachikawa, only you could have everything you need in life and still find something to complain about.' She left the bedroom and headed back into the large formal dining room. Normally, Michael would be away and filming or promoting and Mimi would just eat in the kitchen or the living room in front of the television. But tonight, she was going all out. The table was set with their set of crystal dishes, and several dark green candles were scattered around the table. Michael's favorite wine was chilling in an ice bucket in the corner, and she had dimmed the lights nicely. Satisfied with the way the table looked, she headed into the kitchen. After rummaging through the drawers she managed to find a lighter and lit all of the candles in the dining room. She quickly walked back over to her office and found the manila folder she had been given at the doctor's office. Smiling, she pulled out her copy of the sonogram photo. The baby didn't look like much now, as she was only about eight weeks along, but it was still nice to have some evidence other than her always-at-night morning sickness that she actually was pregnant.

The sound of the door unlocking snapped Mimi out of her thoughts. Feeling more than a little giddy, she placed the photo face down on the coffee table on the way to the door. She managed to get to the foyer just as the front door swung open, revealing a slightly travel-worn Michael. She smiled widely, taking his briefcase from his hand and setting it down along the wall. He placed his suitcase next to it, and Mimi embraced him tightly. "Oh, I missed you," she sighed, breathing in the smell of him. Michael rubbed her back for a moment, staying quiet. When Mimi pulled away, she looked him in the eyes. "How was your flight?" she asked, taking his hand and leading him into the apartment.

"Were you planning on going out tonight? I was considering going straight to bed." His voice sounded strange, as if he was holding back something. She looked at him, suddenly feeling dumb for planning a big, nice dinner when he had obviously had such a long day. "Oh," she said quietly. "I'm sorry, honey. I was just so excited that you were coming home that I made dinner for us. I didn't even think about how tired you would be." Michael poked his head around the corner to where he could see the dining room, and his face softened slightly. "I guess one plate couldn't hurt."

Mimi practically beamed. So far, things were going according to her plan. Once she served dessert, she would show Michael the sonogram photo and tell him the good news. He was acting quite strangely though, even for being jet lagged. It looked like he was just pushing his food around on his place; she had yet to see him take a bite.

"Michael, are you alright?" His fork stopped moving and he began to fidget with his hands nervously. Mimi was confused; she had never seen him act like this before. Everything about him was so out of character, and it was obvious that something was weighing heavily on his mind. She reached over and gently put her hand on top of his. "Michael, you know you can tell me anything."

He finally looked up at her, and his eyes were sad. "I do have to tell you something, Mimi." She took a deep breath. He was being so unlike himself, and deep in the pit of her stomach she knew what he was going to say wasn't going to be good. Had one of his parents passed away? Did he get fired from his new movie? He was usually so eloquent with words. "Michael," she started, but he blurted out his confession before she got a chance to speak.

"I've been seeing someone else," he said. Mimi's mouth fell open in shock, and she stared blankly at him. "I-I didn't mean for it to happen," he stuttered, feeling the need to explain himself. "I love you, I've always loved you, but it's just that, well, now I love someone else too."

"You what?" she whispered harshly. Her voice came out sounding weak and scratchy, not at all how she wanted it to be. "I know. I know, I'm a horrible person. I thought it would just go away, but then she got cast in this movie with me, and…"

"You're seeing Adele?" she practically screamed then, not caring if any of their neighbors heard. Michael shrank back in his chair. He had never seen her so angry; he had never meant to make her this angry. "Mimi, it just, happened one day, you know?" he cringed knowing he had made the wrong choice of words. He had to explain himself before Mimi completely lost her cool. "I was planning to end it as soon as we were done with this movie," Mimi stifled a sob before he continued. "But then I found out she was pregnant." Mimi felt like she might faint.

"And it just, it made me think. I had never thought about a family before, not really, anyway. Just knowing that she was going to be the mother of my child made me feel so, I don't know the word for it. It made me feel so, inexplicably good. But it made me think, too, and I realized that even though I love you Mimi, I do, I just can't imagine having a family with you." Forget fainting; now she knew for sure that she was going to vomit. She stood up quickly and bolted to the bathroom just in time, slamming the door behind her. When she was finished emptying the contents of her stomach, she leaned against the cool wall behind her and finally let the tears come.

.oO0Oo.

Michael got up to follow her but stopped when she slammed the door in his face. He couldn't blame her. His heart constricted as her heard the sounds of her being sick, and he longed to break down the door and hold her and tell her that everything was alright. He sighed. He was no better than her father, someone who on their wedding day he had sworn to never imitate. Why had he even slept with Adele in the first place? He wanted to blame her, to say that she had tried to seduce him or something, but Mimi deserved better than lies. It had been something that had just happened, after weeks of working together on the same set, little accidental touches and gestures built up into something resembling a relationship, and neither one of them could really fight it.

The toilet flushed, and in its wake he could hear her crying, making him feel even guiltier than before. He tried the door, but found that she had locked it on her way in. He resigned himself to his fate, knowing that he needed to give her time to take it all in, time to vent, and time to reflect. She had always been an interesting person like that, always needing to have her breakdowns alone, refusing help from anyone, because somewhere in all of that she was able to make sense of things. Michael had always been the opposite; he needed someone to be there with him, to talk to him and to help him understand.

Sighing, he turned away from the bathroom door and headed back into the living room. He was exhausted, but for Mimi's sake, he would try to stay awake until she had calmed down to give her the opportunity to talk if she wanted to. He noticed some paper on the coffee table and picked it up, nearly scoffing. Mimi kept an immaculate house; there was no way she would just leave something lying around like that.

Flipping over the paper, his heart stopped as he took in the sonogram photo. Before jumping to conclusions, he checked the top for a name, and there he saw, in large block letters: TACHIKAWA, M. He forgot to breathe. Everything clicked into place, the nice dress, the fancy dinner, the way she was practically gushing at him to come home on the phone. He checked the date. Today. She'd found out she was pregnant today and gotten a sonogram, and then he'd told her that he was in love with someone else, that he could never see the two of them having a family together.

He was an ass.

"Shit!" he swore, jumping up quickly and practically running back to the bathroom. He futilely tried the knob again, despite the fact that he could still hear her sobbing on the other side of the door. Resting his forehead against the door and resisting the urge to drive his fist into the wall, he called her name. As expected, she ignored him, but he pressed on anyways. Words started spilling out of his mouth faster than he could control them.

"Mimi, I know this is bad. I know," he took in a deep breath. "This will be hard, but I know I can't just shuck off responsibility for this baby. You'd probably sue me anyways," he chuckled at his own ill-humored joke, not noticing that Mimi had quieted down and was listening intently to what he was saying. "But, you know, you could always just get this taken care of. Abortion would probably be the best thing for both of us. You could always go for adoption. I know you can't be seriously considering doing this on your own…"

The door whipped open, catching Michael off-guard in the middle of his sentence. Not a second later, Mimi's hand connected to his face, hard, pushing him backwards a bit. "How dare you!" she was really screaming now. "How dare you even think for a second that I would not have this baby! Do you even know me?" Michael was struck silent by her outburst, and backed away slightly, gently pressing his hand to his bruised cheek. Even with faint tracks of mascara on her cheeks and her face reddened from crying, he couldn't help but think of her as beautiful. 'You're an idiot,' he told himself, not for the first time.

"You're just like my father," she spat, her voice laced with venom. She made to push past him and head back into their bedroom, but he grabbed her arm to stop her.

"No, no I'm not." He was getting angry now, even thought he knew he had no right to be. He couldn't control himself. "I told you. I told you to your face, right when it happened. I didn't lie to you for years." Forcefully, he pushed her up against the wall, ignoring her pained gasp when he twisted her wrist a little bit tighter. She pulled against him, and screamed, "Let me go!"

At the slightly panicked tone in her voice, the angry fog in his brain lifted, and he released her, jumping back as if she had bitten him. There was no masking the hurt and betrayal in her eyes; he could see it now. She cradled her wrist against her chest, staring at him.

"I…" he didn't know what to say. He didn't understand what he had just done. Seeing the sonogram photograph had snapped something inside of him. "I'm sorry," he managed to whisper. He couldn't look at her anymore. She was backed against the wall, as far away from him as she could be, and he knew that she was afraid. "I just…I don't want this, Mimi. I won't lie to you and tell you that I do or pretend that I want you to keep the baby. I already lied to you once tonight, and I shouldn't have. I wanted this to be easier on you."

"What did you lie about?" her voice was cold, calculating. She betrayed no emotion as she questioned him. He sighed, staring at the ground. "I'm not in love with you anymore."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her slide down the wall, pulling her knees into her chest. He hadn't wanted to ruin her, but that was all he had done. "I tried, Mimi, I really did. We're apart all the time because you won't move to California with me, and that's all that happened. I stopped loving you and started loving someone else because it was too hard for me to do this anymore." Hesitantly, he knelt down next to her, not sure how she would react.

Her face was still blank, and he hated it. He wanted her to scream at him, tell him to leave, or hit him. He wanted her to do anything but sit there and stare blankly at the wall. "I never meant for this to happen," he said again, his voice quiet. "Mimi, please, say something." She sniffed, her eyes never leaving the spot on the wall she was so focused on. "How long did you know?"

He sighed. "Not very long," he admitted, "maybe a couple of weeks or so. I would have told you sooner, but I didn't have a break in filming until now." Mimi sighed and rested her chin on her knees. "How long have you been with Adele?" Michael winced. He had hoped she wouldn't ask that question. "About three months." Mimi closed her eyes in an attempt to keep more tears from falling. "I'm really sorry, Mimi," he whispered, and she scoffed and shook her head. "Stop saying that. You're sorry that I'm upset. You're sorry that I'm carrying your child. You're not sorry that you're in love with someone else."

Silently, she stood and exited the hallway towards the dining room to clean up the remainder of their meal. She needed to do something to take her mind off of what had just happened. 'I guess you finally got your wish,' she thought to herself. 'Now you really have to struggle.' She felt detached, as if she had just heard the tragic story of Mimi Tachikawa on the news instead of acknowledging what had just happened. She wasn't ready to face the consequences of Michael's confessions.

Once the table was cleared and the dishwasher was started, she leaned against the dining room wall. She could hear some noise from the direction of the bedrooms and decided to investigate. Inside their bedroom, Michael was repacking his suitcase, trying to add in as many additional things as he could. A wave of sadness washed over her as she realized that this was real. This was her life, and she had to face it. Clearing he throat, she asked, "Where will you go?" Michael started, as if surprised to see her standing in the doorway. "I don't know," he admitted. His eyes caught the beginnings of a bruise on Mimi's wrist and he felt ashamed. "I'm sorry about that," he whispered. Self consciously, Mimi pulled her arm behind her back, rubbing it with her other hand.

"What do we do now?" She had signed a prenuptial agreement before they had gotten married, at the request of Michael's father. She couldn't remember all of the details specifically, there was so much legal jargon involved but Michael had assured her that his family wasn't trying to pull one over on her. Michael zipped up his suitcase and walked over to the door. "I'll call my lawyer in the morning, I suppose." He set his suitcase down by his feet, and Mimi did not move out of his way in the doorframe. He reached forward and gently squeezed her shoulder.

"I meant it when I said that I never intended for this to happen." Mimi nodded, not trusting herself to speak. With each passing second the situation became more and more real, and a heavy weight began to settle upon her shoulders. "I…you'll have to keep me informed about the baby, I guess." Mimi scoffed, "I thought you didn't want it anyway." Michael winced, his earlier, poor choice of words coming back to him. "Look, I just need time to adjust to the idea, that's all. I'm not saying that I don't want to be a part in the baby's life forever, just…not now."

Mimi didn't say anything, but she moved to the side of the doorframe to give him to opportunity to leave. "I guess this is goodbye, then." He hesitated, as if there was something else he needed to say, but ultimately picked up his suitcase off the floor and headed toward the door. She heard him retrieve his coat and briefcase from the closet before opening the front door. The door slid shut with a near silent click as Mimi's resolve finally crumbled and she burst into tears. Suddenly finding that her legs could no longer support her, she stumbled toward the bed, collapsing facedown and sobbing uncontrollably into the comforter. The stress of the day finally took its toll on her and she drifted into an unpleasant and dreamless sleep.

.oO0Oo.

Well, that's all for now! Keep in mind that this story is heavily Mimi-centric but in the next few chapters we'll get into what's going on in the lives of the other Digidestined. Please review with constructive criticism! You guys are always helping me to improve. Take care!

-Ashes


	3. The Short Story of Takaishi Takeru

**Warnings**: Semi-AU (digimon don't become common knowledge for the world, so instead of being a 'digimon doctor' Jyou is just a regular doctor, etc.), violence, abuse, being mean to one of my favorite characters, major angst, yaoi couples, etc. but nothing absurdly graphic. Also, I can't write Michael as a nice person. I always try, but I just can't. Sorry, Michael lovers!

**This Chapter:**__Yaoi, implied sex, bad words, and some major angst.

Pairings (for now): Michael/Mimi, Sorato, Jyou/OC, Daikari, Kenyako, Koushirou/Iori, and Taichi and Takeru are happenin' bachelors (or are they?).

Ages: I fudged the timeline slightly. Jyou is 27. Yamato, Sora, Taichi, Koushirou are 26. Michael is 25. Mimi and Ken are 24. Miyako is 23. Takeru, Daisuke, and Hikari are 21. Iori is 20.

Woohoo, chapter 2! This story gets a lot of hits, but not a lot of reviews, so I know you guys are out there somewhere! This chapter is pretty lengthy (12 pages in word) and it's all about Takeru! You're going to see a little bit more character development for a couple of other favorites in here as well. I hope you all enjoy! Thanks, Ashes.

**Forward Motion**

Flutterby Ashes

_Chapter 2_

_The Short Story of Takaishi Takeru_

.oO0Oo.

Takeru was positive that he had the longest running streak of bad luck in history.

His life had started out charmed enough, he supposed. He came from a broken family, but had a mother and brother who absolutely adored him. At times he had longed for a normal family, like the ones all of his friends had, save for Mimi; he would have never wished for that kind of a family collapse on anyone. He often longed for an approving gaze from his father, an 'I love you', or a proud pat on the back from the man, but over time he learned to deal without, simply accepting that his mother had given him enough love and encouragement to count for both parents. In secondary school he had become somewhat of a star. He got good grades and was the most talented player Odaiba's basketball team had seen in decades. His girlfriend was the dream of every other guy in school, Yagami Hikari.

Just after his sixteenth birthday, everything had gone downhill.

His school's basketball team was playing in the quarterfinal match for the Japanese national title, and they were creaming the other team by a mile, mostly due to Takeru's efforts. At the beginning of the second half, however, the coach of the other team put in the burliest teenager Takeru had ever seen. Fifteen seconds into the half, Bigfoot rushed Takeru, slamming him into the wall and knocking him unconscious. According to Yamato, it was a good thing, because the hit broke his arm in three places, and one of the pieces of bone had broken the skin and there was blood everywhere. His team had lost, not just because Takeru was out of the game but because his teammates we're concerned about his well-being.

He had to have six surgeries on his arm to fix everything. One of the breaks didn't heal correctly the first time, and the doctors had to break the bone again to reset it. Some ligaments had been torn in his shoulder as well. Days after the accident, the university that had been in touch with him about a potential scholarship had called to inform him that they had changed their minds. Apparently they weren't confident that his injury would heal in time for him to play at the collegiate level, despite the fact that he still had another year and a half of secondary school to go.

He'd had to stay in the hospital for over a week, but during that time a lot of people had come to visit him. Yamato and Hikari came practically every day. The first night, Yamato had stayed in the spare bed in his hospital room, just to keep an overprotective eye on his baby brother. When the nurses found him during their morning rounds, they were none too pleased and chased him off, demanding that he not come back until visiting hours. Hikari always acted strange when she came to see him, but he'd nudged it off, crediting her awkwardness to a simple dislike of hospitals. Daisuke came to visit a couple of times, along with a few other members of the basketball team. Daisuke had taken up basketball while in his quest to be better than Takeru at everything, and with Takeru out of commission he would probably become the new team captain. As much as Takeru valued Daisuke's friendship, the thought of being replaced with him made the blonde seethe with anger.

His mother hadn't come until the last day; she'd been away in the States on business and hadn't been able to get away immediately. She scolded him and informed him that he would never be able to play basketball again. Takeru had decided not to fight his mother on this point immediately; his arm throbbed too much and the pain medication that he was taking made him feel loopy. She took him home and sent him straight to bed, and for the next four days she almost suffocated him with motherly love. She'd even prohibited most of his friends from coming to visit him, something that drove him absolutely insane, although he did appreciate all of the rest he was able to get. Yamato would bring his guitar and work on writing songs, and Takeru contributed some very colorful drug-inspired lyrics.

On the fifth day, he'd decided to venture out to see some of his friends.

Missing Hikari, he'd headed over to the Yagami residence first. They had moved from the apartment they'd lived in when they were younger after Mr. Yagami had gotten a huge raise at work. Taichi and Hikari had gotten their own rooms, something Takeru was immensely grateful for when they wanted some privacy from Taichi's prying eyes.

A bleary-eyed Taichi opened the door, clearly having just woken up. His face brightened up once he saw Takeru. "'Keru!" he'd called, opening up the door. "How are you feeling?" Takeru had been a little surprised to see him, but it was the weekend and Taichi tended to come home from his university on the weekends. He pulled the smaller blonde into a hug, and carefully avoided the injured arm. Takeru had always been grateful for Taichi's friendship. Like Yamato, he was someone who was always willing to listen. Unlike Yamato, he rarely shifted into obsessively protective mode, and often times Takeru would confide in Taichi before Yamato. They'd spoken for a few minutes, but for the life of him Takeru could never remembered what he's said.

All he'd remembered from that day was Taichi knocking twice before pushing Hikari's door open, revealing a naked Hikari and an equally naked Daisuke, condom in hand, guilty expressions on both of their faces. He might have passed out, but he wasn't sure. All he knew was that he had discovered his girlfriend, whom he had loved dearly, about to have sex with another boy, one of his friends, when they hadn't even reached that stage yet, or more importantly, when she hadn't even shown an interest in reaching that stage with him in their two years of dating.

Taichi exploded. Takeru thought for sure that he was going to kill Daisuke, but he simply ordered the boy to get his clothes on and "get the fucking fuck out of his house." Takeru had briefly worried about Hikari's safety, but Taichi had just regarded her with a look that said, "I have never been more disappointed in you." He'd belatedly realized that he was crying, and Taichi had taken him by his good arm, leading him into his bedroom and closing the door.

It was embarrassing, Takeru recalled, remembering how much he had revealed to Taichi, how he had sobbed his heart out, and how the older boy had just listened, rubbing his back occasionally and bringing him a glass of water and a box of tissues. Yamato wouldn't have done that, he knew. He'd be too busy murdering Daisuke and probably Taichi, for not keeping a better handle on his sister.

The remainder of his time at secondary school flew by uneventfully. Eventually he and Hikari had discussed their feelings and her reasons for why she had done what she did, yet his friendships with Hikari and Daisuke never truly recovered. They became a shell of what they used to be, friendly greetings and casual "how are you?"'s and nothing more. He didn't play basketball again. He had tried, but there was still something wrong with his shoulder and the way the muscles moved in his arm. He was nowhere near as talented as he had been before, and decided that he didn't want to face his old team as a mediocre player. With his time freed up from basketball, he'd taken an interest in writing and unintentionally discovered his one true passion in life.

He'd also become unbelievably close with Mimi, despite the girl living thousands of miles away. She had opened up to him about her family breaking apart, asking Takeru how he always seemed to handle it so well. She was someone that he found he could easily relate to, and he welcomed her sincerity and honesty, even the times when she was brutally honest with him. He vividly remembered her calling him when she'd found out that her mother had cancer and not much time left to live. They'd spent hours on the phone until he finally convinced her that she needed to go and be with her mother and spend as much time with her as she could. When his mother returned home from work that evening, he'd assaulted her with hugs, cooked dinner, and skipped going out with friends to spend the entire evening with her. Just before Christmas and Mimi's twentieth birthday, Mrs. Tachikawa passed away. He'd felt her death deeply, and had flown to New York to be with Mimi and attend her mother's funeral.

The last six months of secondary school passed like a blur. He'd gotten offers from several prestigious schools in Japan and France, and ultimately decided to attend the University of Tokyo, where he'd made arrangements to live with Taichi, who also attended the school. He decided to study Literature with the ultimate aspiration of becoming a novelist, while Taichi was busy studying international business.

One week before he was supposed to move away to school, his mother unexpectedly passed away in a car accident while visiting some of her family in France.

Everything for weeks after his mother's death was a blur. He vaguely remembered phone calls with Mimi and refusing her offer to come and be with him in his time of need. He remembered Yamato holding him while he screamed and cried and hated the world for doing this to him. He remembered cleaning out their apartment and moving their things into his tiny apartment with Taichi. He remembered all of Taichi's support, silent and caring, when he was finally able to start his classes. Worst of all, he remembered the will.

Takeru, Yamato, their father, and their grandmother from France were all seated in a dismal looking room at some prominent law firm in Tokyo, wondering what it was that their mother had left to them. To Takeru, she'd left the apartment and most of its belongings as well as access to his trust fund. To Yamato, she'd left access to his trust fund along with some odds and ends from the apartment. To their grandmother, she'd left everything else. To their father, she'd left the truth: Takeru wasn't his.

The four of them sat in shocked silence as the lawyer read the final passage from her will: "Hirokai, I must be honest with you. I am too cowardly to tell you these things in life, so if I pass on before you at least you will know. We were struggling when we were married. Yamato brought us so much joy, but we were both in love with our jobs and the stress of raising a child while working so much ate away at us, causing us to be cruel and hurtful to one another." Yamato sank down deeper in his chair; both of them had always hated when their parents made statements insinuating that the children were why they divorced. "I think that our marriage was doomed before we ever began, but if we did do one thing right, it was that we brought a beautiful young man into this world, and that is something that I will never regret." Takeru stiffened. 'Two young men,' he thought, 'you have two sons together.'

"What I do regret was my moment of weakness. We'd had a fight and I'd left to go to France for a few days to clear my head. When I returned, we reconciled, and a few weeks later we learned that I was pregnant with Takeru." Takeru's throat went dry. "I let you believe he was your son, but he's not. I wasn't sure at first, and it took months for me to work up the courage and do the paternity test. I had an affair, Hirokai, and Takeru came from that affair."

The rest of her statement fell on deaf ears. Takeru was as pale as a sheet, his breathing deep and ragged, with pinpricks of tears stinging at his eyes. Yamato had grabbed him then, pulling him out of the room and into the hallway, and he was hyperventilating. He felt sick, and he pushed past Yamato to get to the bathroom. Dizziness overtook him and he stumbled, but Yamato was there to grab him and steady him. He'd collapsed to his knees, retching all over Yamato's leg, but his brother knelt with him in the hallway anyway, holding him close and kissing his forehead, telling him that he was loved, that he was important. He had passed out, he knew, because the next thing he remembered was waking up in the guest bedroom of his father's apartment with Yamato sleeping in the bed next to him.

Well, not his father's apartment. Hirokai was not his father, after all.

It had been an awkward few days. Hirokai never mentioned anything about the will, though it was obvious that he'd thought about it often. His eyes were bleary and red, and he appeared to not have gotten much sleep in the few days that Takeru had stayed there. Their relationship didn't change; Hirokai had never been overtly interested in Takeru or the things that he was doing. When it came time to leave, the man had regarded him with a strange expression that Takeru didn't understand, almost as though he was sad to see him go.

Sometimes, Takeru just wished he would gather up the courage to talk to Hirokai about the situation. To be honest, he didn't think that he had ever uttered the truth to a single soul, and he wasn't even sure how many of his friends actually knew. Yamato had told Taichi and Sora, and Sora had told Mimi, but he didn't know if word had spread to anyone else. He wasn't sure that he cared either way. He wondered if his father had always suspected the nature of his birth; the man hadn't been overtly caring to him throughout his entire life, but Takeru had always credited that to the fact that his parents had divorced before his first birthday. When he moved to Tokyo, he found his self harboring feelings of disgust toward his mother, and he had been ready for a fresh start on his own.

He had excelled at University, something that hadn't really surprised anyone. He worked hard and managed to graduate in three years instead of the standard four. Living with Taichi had turned out to be great for Takeru, as the older boy had always managed to put him in a better mood. Taichi had eventually helped him to come to terms with his mother's death and her past mistakes and helped him to focus on and remember the good memories they'd had. He'd taught Takeru how to "drink like a man," but the blonde could still barely hold his liquor. He'd even got Takeru to play basketball again, as he'd played on the university's club team and had excelled. He never did give Takeru enough confidence to try out for the varsity team, but the younger boy hadn't minded; it had felt good just to play competitively again. He'd helped Takeru get a job with the school's newspaper as a sports analyst, on the one condition that he never wrote anything negative about Tokyo's start soccer player, Yagami Taichi.

Somewhere in all of that, they'd fallen in love.

It was ridiculous, he knew. He spent his childhood growing up that he and Hikari were destined to be together, and now he was off cavorting with her older brother. Yamato would have a conniption if he knew. In fact, Takeru was pretty sure that none of their friends knew, despite the fact that they'd been together for nearly three years. They kept living together in Tokyo, where Taichi worked for the Japanese ambassador to the United Nations, and Takeru worked for a small publishing firm while working on his first novel. They didn't have friends over often, and all of Takeru's furniture and belonging resided in one bedroom while they shared the other. Takeru had to admit that he'd liked it that way. He liked that what they had was still private, but he hated how Yamato didn't know.

He debated at least once a week on whether or not to tell his brother, and he always decided not to. He and Yamato were close, but once he and Sora had gotten married, they had started to drift apart, especially after the baby had been born. But, he recalled Yamato's reaction to Koushirou and Iori dating; the blonde had practically freaked out, screaming to anyone and everyone that would listen about how it was wrong to be gay. Things had eventually been smoothed over, and Yamato had apologized for his outburst, but Takeru knew that he wouldn't be able to handle it if Yamato acted that way toward him.

Besides, he wasn't even sure that he was gay. He'd been attracted to Hikari and a slew of other women, but Taichi was the only man that he'd ever felt any kind of connection with. It was during Takeru's first year at the university after Taichi had taken him to a wild party and gotten him completely and disgustingly drunk. They'd kissed, at least once that Takeru remembered, and he had woken up in Taichi's bed. Taichi had promised him that nothing had happened, and things were surprisingly not awkward between the two of them afterwards. Things like that had happened a number of times during the first year that they'd lived together. Eventually they'd started to go on the occasional date, but they both still casually dated women as well.

One night, after each downing a bottle of wine, Taichi detached himself from Takeru's embrace and regarded the blonde seriously. "What are we doing?" he had asked, and Takeru had been confused. For the remainder of the evening they had talked about their feelings toward each other, and they'd come to the conclusion that neither one of them wanted to stop what they were doing. They had agreed to stop dating women and be exclusive, but to still keep it a secret for the time being.

"Do you think you're gay?" Takeru had asked, lazily entwining his fingers with Taichi's. The older boy had just shrugged. "I don't know," he replied. "I've never thought about it." His eyes shifted and became serious once again. "I know that I like you, not because you're a man or a woman or a digimon." Takeru had smiled at that, knowing that he'd felt the same way. Their feelings hadn't changed too drastically over the years, and Takeru was still confused as to the nature of his sexuality, but it was something that he often ignored. Maybe he was simply Taichi-sexual.

After he'd finished university, he'd started to work for a publishing company, hoping to make a lot of good connections for when he finished writing his book so that he could get it published with as much ease as possible. He'd done well there, in his little cubicle, reading and approving works from other aspiring writers like himself. Occasionally he would notice a plot line or two from one of his books that he was working on and would worry that he might be accused of plagiarizing in the far distance future, but other than that, he was tremendously happy with his job.

That was until now, while he sat at his desk, listlessly throwing his things into a box and packing up to go home for the last time. Yes, he was positive that he had, without a doubt, the worst collective luck of any human being on the planet.

The company had been the victim of a lawsuit by a disgruntled writer who had failed to get his novel published after numerous attempts. Somehow, he'd managed to convince the judge that the company hadn't endorsed him because he modeled his writing styles after prominent American authors while writing about traditional Japanese culture. The resulting discrimination lawsuit had bankrupted the company, much to everyone's surprise, and that morning their boss had informed them all that their jobs were nonexistent after five o'clock that evening. What was worse was the fact that Taichi was away with the ambassador at a conference in Switzerland and wouldn't be back for another two weeks.

He paused in his packing after picking up a group photograph of everyone at Mimi's wedding, nearly two years before. He smiled, taking in everyone's expressions in the photo. Yamato had his trademark smirk plastered across his face and his arm possessively wrapped around Sora's waist. Sora was smiling happily, her arm playfully draped over Hikari's shoulder. Hikari and Daisuke were holding hands and grinning widely. Not for the first time, Takeru briefly imagined himself in Daisuke's position, 'as it should have been,' he thought. He shook his head as if to clear away the bad thoughts. He was happy now, they all were. Jyou was smiling, but the expression didn't seem to reach his eyes. Jyou had been in love with Mimi his whole life, and he knew that if Mimi had stayed in Japan the doctor would have eventually worked up the nerve to ask her on a date. Mimi was next to Jyou, her hand resting on his shoulder, smiling shyly, as if embarrassed by all the attention on her wedding day. Miyako and Ken were beside her, grinning widely with their arms around each other. Takeru had been between Ken and Iori; his arms lazily draped around both of their shoulders, a lopsided smile across his face that nearly mirrored Yamato's. Taichi and Koushirou were kneeling on the ground, with Koushirou smiling smartly and Taichi throwing his arms out wide, gripping Mimi's hand in his left and her bouquet in his right, a grin that could rival a madman plastered across his face.

He smiled, thinking about how great it would be to see all of them again. Unfortunately, it would probably be at Daisuke and Hikari's wedding, an event that he was dreading, especially given the events of the night before, where Hikari all but pleaded him to accept Daisuke's offer to be a groomsman.

"It just won't be the same without you," she'd said. "I really hope you'll reconsider." Takeru winced. He really hated letting his friends down, but he wasn't sure if he could go through the entire ceremony without breaking down. It'd been five years, he knew, and he had moved on and was happy, with her own brother, no less, but it still ached when he thought of their betrayal, and sometimes he let the memory get to him more than he liked to admit.

"Takaishi!" his boss yelled, snapping him out of his thoughts. He sighed. 'More bad news,' he thought, dreading what the man would say next. Entering his boss's office, he could see that the man looked just as frustrated as he felt. Boxes were strewn about the room, and his bookcase had been emptied and his desk cleared. He gestured to the lone chair left in the office, and Takeru sat, nervously awaiting his fate.

"You know, Takaishi," he began, "It really kills me to have to let all of these people go. Times are tough. It's going to be hard for a lot of these guys to find a new job, especially someone so fresh out of school, like you." Takeru winced. It was true; he'd been with the company for less than a year. He hadn't managed to land a job until a few months after graduation. The eight months that he'd been there probably wouldn't look too fantastic on his resume, despite the quality of work he had put into it.

"But, unlike the rest of the kids here, I think you have real talent." Takeru's head snapped up at that. "You're a strong writer. You've always made your reports easy to read and engaging, which is something most of the other kids here think is impossible." He felt a light blush color his cheeks; it wasn't often that he was praised for his work. "Are you familiar with the online blog and newspaper, Tokyo Today?" Takeru nodded. He had a subscription to the blog. It chronicled the daily events in Tokyo with down-to-Earth and layman language, with the intent that all residents of Tokyo could read it with ease. "I own it," his boss said. Takeru's heart leapt up.

"You used to write for your school newspaper's sports section?" He nodded, feeling the beginning of a dumb grin appearing on his face. "We happen to have an opening in the Sports and Entertainment department. I think you'd be a perfect fit." Takeru felt completely elated. They'd sat for a while, discussing the conditions of the job. To Takeru, it sounded perfect. He would be able to work from home, for the most part, or anywhere else that had internet access. He would be sent the news stories and then his job would be to write a commentary and post it to the blog. He would technically be working freelance, but his boss had assured him that he would be given more than enough work to make ends meet. Once every two weeks he would be required to attend a staff meeting, but other than that his hours were his own. He couldn't believe his luck as he sat with his boss and discussed the paperwork and terms of his new position. When they'd finished, he stood, shaking his boss's hand and thanking him profusely.

"Don't disappoint me, Takaishi," he demanded before waving him out the door. Takeru quickly got his emotions under control as he walked out of the office. Taking in the sad faces of his coworkers sobered his mood. He knew that some of the older people would be upset that their boss gave such a fantastic position to an "insignificant little newbie," as the younger staff were called. He decided that, for now, it would be best to keep his mouth shut. If one of his coworkers happened to notice his name on an article at a later date, then he would concoct a wonderful story of how he battled out people for the position during the interview process. He knew he would never be able to admit that he had been hand-picked for the job.

He settled back down at his desk, determined to keep himself from whistling as he packed the last of his things. "Hey, Takeru," a voice piped up from outside of his cubicle. He looked up to see a scrawny man with short brown hair and thin silver glasses over his light grey eyes. "Hey Ryou," he greeted, noting the depressed town in his voice. He and Ryou had started work at about the same time. Ryou had been a biology major in school but hadn't been able to find a job anywhere related to his field, so he had started working as an office assistant for the publishing company. He hadn't been too pleased about his form of employment, but he did what he had to do to pay the bills.

"A bunch of us are going to go to the Brown Lantern for dinner and drinks tonight. You interested?" Takeru nodded in agreement. A night out with the boys from work seemed like a good idea. With Taichi out of the country he often got bored in the evening. Sometimes he would meet up with some of the gang, but Yamato and Sora, and Miyako and Ken were busy with their children and he really couldn't stand to be around Daisuke and Hikari while they were in wedding planning mode. Iori was often too busy freaking out about his law school exams and Koushirou was busy trying to get the too-serious man to relax. Jyou was still working nights at the hospital, but sometimes he and Takeru would meet for lunch. He grabbed the remainder of his things and stuffed them into his briefcase before picking up his small box of desk supplies, thanking Ryou and promising to meet up with him later.

Luckily, Taichi had deep pockets, and he and Takeru lived in an enormous four bedroom apartment in the heart of Tokyo. His walk to work was just a few short blocks, as was Taichi's. He had no sooner made it back to the apartment and deposited his belongings in their shared office when his cell phone began to ring. Taichi's name flashed on the caller ID and he quickly answered. "Hey," he greeted, surprised that Taichi was calling in the middle of the day.

"They said on the news that Hideaki Publishers is going bankrupt and that everyone was losing their jobs," Taichi blurt out in a rush. 'Great,' Takeru thought, mentally preparing himself for the onslaught of phone calls he was sure to receive later.

"Yea," he said nonchalantly. "They lost the lawsuit. I just got home from cleaning my desk out. The guys are going out for dinner and drinks later on to start the healing process."

"Aren't you upset? Or worried? I mean, come on, 'Keru. I can't pay for that apartment by myself and you know it." Takeru resisted the urge to laugh. He could practically see Taichi's frantic expression. The older boy tended to worry about money too much.

"No, not really," he replied, his tone still uncaring. "WHAT?" Taichi practically exploded through the phone line, and at that point he did laugh. He then explained the conditions of his new job to Taichi, who was thrilled to hear the good news.

"Dammit, 'Keru, you practically gave me a heart attack," Taichi complained, but Takeru just laughed again. "I'm serious! I was worried. You loved that job; I was expecting you to be devastated."

"I was," he admitted, "this morning, before he offered me the new job. I thought I was completely screwed. It's still bad for me though, at least for now. I'm losing all of my friends in the publishing business." Taichi laughed, "You'll never get that snore-fest of a book published now!" He pretended to be offended, and then teased Taichi, saying that any book over three pages long was sure to be a snore-fest for him. They chatted aimlessly for a while until Takeru was able to effectively convince Taichi that he was fine.

"I love you, you know," Taichi whispered suddenly, and Takeru smiled at that. He knew that Taichi worried about him when he was away, or, more accurately, that Taichi worried he would get fed up with being left behind so often. Every time that he left, Taichi wore the same guilty expression, asking him if he was completely okay with him being gone for a short while, worrying over the situation until Takeru would kiss his doubts away and push him out the door. "I love you," he whispered back, before they said their goodbyes.

With his whole afternoon cleared, Takeru wondered what he should do for the day. It was approaching lunch time on a Friday, and he briefly considered ordering some food for delivery to avoid both cooking and braving the crowds, but ultimately setting on calling Jyou to see if he had any free time before his shift began. Looking at his phone again, he was not surprised to see text messages from all of the women, Sora, Miyako, and Hikari, asking him if he was alright. He decided that he would just send everyone an email later, rather than taking the time to get back with everyone individually.

After a couple of rings, Jyou picked up, sounding groggy. "Hey. I didn't wake you up, did I?" He heard Jyou yawn through the phone, then gasp. "Yea, but it's a good thing you did. I should have gotten up an hour again," the dark-haired man swore under his breath, and Takeru struggled to muffle his laughter. Jyou was a prude; he never swore. "Have time for lunch?" he inquired?

They wound up meeting twenty minutes later at a small café that was close to the hospital. It had a large outdoor seating area, and since the weather was nice they had decided to sit outside. Takeru took in his friend's appearance. He looked exhausted, which, he supposed, was not unexpected. They chatted mindlessly for a few minutes, but Takeru's curiosity eventually got the better of him.

"Mimi loves this place," he said, in absolute honesty. Jyou head snapped up and he eyed the blonde suspiciously. "She makes me bring her here whenever she comes to visit. I guess that's been a long time ago now though." Jyou made a noise to indicate that he was listening, but otherwise didn't respond. "She said if she ever gets to open her dream restaurant, she'd make it look something like this. But she wants to serve American food in Japan to make all the tourists feel at home." He chuckled lightly. Jyou seemed to be staring off into the distance, and Takeru sighed.

"Are you ever going to tell her, Jyou?" The older man looked down at his table and sighed. Takeru sighed as well; he hadn't meant to push him too far. "I don't know, Takeru. She's with Michael. They're married." Takeru rolled his eyes. "That was a mistake, and we both know it. Everyone knows it." Jyou scoffed. "Yea, everyone except for Mimi." Takeru sighed again. None of them had ever really cared for Michael, and Takeru and Jyou thought he was all wrong for Mimi. Whenever they were together, especially when the whole gang was together, Michael ignored her, and everyone else, or acted rude and bored before eventually stomping off and yelling at Mimi to follow him.

Jyou shook his head. "Besides, the only way that I'd have a shot with her would be if he left, and you know what that would do to her." Takeru nodded in agreement. Sometimes, he was pretty sure that the only reason Mimi wound up staying with Michael in the first place was because he had been a constant in her life while her father left and her mother died. He had no doubt that it would absolutely destroy her if Michael left too. "Maybe if she would have come back to Japan, things would have been different." Jyou spoke softly, almost as though he was afraid of being overhead. "But she didn't, and there's nothing that anyone can do about that. We grew up and grew apart; it happens all the time." Takeru groaned, but Jyou continued speaking. "Stop worrying about me growing up old and alone while pining about my long lost love or whatever your spiel for the day is. I'll be fine, Takeru. I'll fall in love again someday, when I have enough time to even date again."

Takeru smirked at that. "What, no cute residents working at the hospitals these days?" Jyou smiled back at that. "Now that you mention it, there is one girl that I've been seeing, well, if you count meeting at the coffee vendor outside of the hospital." Takeru laughed as well; he was glad to see that Jyou was back in good spirits. He still wished that Jyou would tell Mimi how he felt about her. Maybe it would make Mimi leave Michael and come back to Japan. They finished their meal with friendly conversation, and Takeru didn't press the issue any farther. He made the mental note to call Mimi later on that evening after he got back from dinner; it had been a while since he'd heard from them.

.oO0Oo.

Takeru groaned, sitting back down in bed to finally relax. 'Today was exhausting,' he thought, but he smiled when he saw Taichi surface from the bathroom, looking every bit as exhausted as he felt.

He'd woken up this morning and was positively thrilled: Taichi would finally be returning from Switzerland that afternoon. He had to attend a staff meeting for work in the morning, and then pick Taichi up from the airport in the afternoon.

His first staff meeting was an experience, to say the least. He was the youngest person in the room by far, and a lot of the other staffers regarded him as though he had grown a third arm straight out of his forehead. As it turned out, the person who he was replacing was unwillingly forced out of his position by his boss, with the exact intent of hiring someone new and desperate who would work for much cheaper. Takeru's situation had worked perfectly for his needs, and he had started to doubt whether or not he was even offered the job based on merit. One of the men, someone who worked in current events, had called out Takeru not even five minutes into the meeting, berating his writing skill and style and chastising their boss for hiring someone so completely incompetent for the position. Several other people offered their negative opinions as well, and Takeru wanted nothing more than to sink into his chair and disappear. 'Thank goodness I only have to go to those twice a month,' he'd thought to himself.

Afterwards, he'd caught a taxi to get to the airport. The taxi ended up getting in a fender bender, and after he'd finally gotten through his statement to the police, he got in another taxi. As his luck would have it, that driver ran over a woman's foot, and Takeru once again had to wait for the police to arrive to give a statement. By the time he'd gotten to the airport he had been so thoroughly frustrated that he couldn't wait to get home. He called Taichi to see where he was, but didn't get a response. For a moment he had thought that he'd still been lucky enough to get to the airport before the flight landed, but a quick look at the arrivals board revealed that the plane had landed two hours again. Swearing under his breath, he called Taichi again, and resisted the urge to chuck his phone across the terminal when it went to voicemail again. He groaned. Knowing his luck, Taichi probably caught his own cab and was sitting at the apartment, fuming at him for forgetting about picking him up.

"Maybe you should get your heads out of your FUCKING assholes and get your shit together!" someone exclaimed, and Takeru sighed with relief. He knew that hotheaded temperature anywhere. He finally spotted Taichi at the Baggage Claim Services counter, voicing his extreme discontent with a young man who looked positively terrified behind the counter. He jogged over to him to try and find out what the situation was. Odds were he'd be able to calm Taichi down and get something accomplished. He nudged the older man's shoulder as he arrived. "Hey," he said, slightly breathless. "What's going on?"

Taichi turned and positively snapped at him, hissing, "Where the hell have you been?" Internally, Takeru groaned. He hated having to deal with Taichi's temper, but more often than not he knew how to talk him down. "Sorry," he replied calmly, "Taxi trouble. Did they lose your bags?" Taichi had recognized the younger man's tone immediately. It was the one that said, 'stop taking your anger out on me when I didn't do anything, you big dumbass,' and he winced. "I'm sorry, 'Keru." Takeru smiled slightly. "Yea, they lost my bags. They didn't make it on the plane in Hong Kong and they're on the way to France now." He sighed. "Go sit," Takeru ordered, and he obliged. It had taken another half hour of conversation and getting snippy with four different managers, but he'd eventually made arrangements to have the bags shipped to their apartment.

They'd caught a taxi that, thankfully, managed to take them all the way back to their apartment building, but when they got home they discovered that a pipe had burst in the spare bathroom and had been spewing water into the apartment for the last seven hours. The landlord had eventually arrived to get the situation taken care of, but had demanded that they vacate the premises until the pipe and floors were repaired. Takeru had quickly packed, and Taichi just didn't bother unpacking and they headed to a hotel across the street. Stomachs growling, they ordered room service, but Takeru tripped with the tray as soon as he closed the door, splattering Taichi, and one of his better suites, with tomato soup and sandwiches. While Taichi showered, Takeru dropped his suit off at the dry cleaners and picked up some Chinese food at a store on the corner. They'd ate in near silence, both stressed out from the day, and Takeru could barely make eye contact with him without feeling embarrassed for dumping food on him.

After they'd finish, Taichi suddenly burst out laughing at the ridiculousness of the day, and Takeru couldn't help but join in. Their laughter turned to conversation, which later turned into snuggling and kissing which led them to where they were now. Takeru curled his nude body up under the sheets while Taichi checked the lock on the door before turning out the light and snuggling in next to Takeru. He kissed the blonde's shoulder lightly. "Thank you for meeting me at the airport," he whispered, and Takeru just nodded. "I'm glad you're back," he said, before drifting off to sleep.

.oO0Oo.

He was awakened by Taichi's arm flopping across his abdomen. He groaned and made out Taichi's words of "'Keru…phone…" and then heard to buzz of his cell phone on the nightstand. Groaning, he made out the time on the clock, seeing that it was about three o'clock in the morning. For a second, he decided to just let it go, but the curiosity of who could be calling him at this hour ultimately got the best of him.

Grabbing his phone, he was shocked to see Mimi's name flashing on the screen. She knew the time difference; she wouldn't call in the middle of the night unless it was really important. Sitting up, feeling suddenly awake, he flipped open the phone. "Hello?" he asked, not hearing anything at first. After a moment, he could make out the sound of soft sniffling on the other end. "Meems, what's wrong?" Hearing this, Taichi set up in the bed, mouthing the words, 'What's going on?' Takeru just shrugged. "Meems, come on. Please tell me what's wrong."

"Everything's wrong," she murmured, her voice thick with tears. "Everything, 'Keru. Everything's ruined."

"What's ruined?" he asked, his voice soft. He was scared by the amount of emotion in her voice. The last time he's heard her like this was after her mother died.

"Michael left," she whispered, and Takeru felt rage consume him. "That bastard!" he hissed, and Taichi immediately caught on to the situation. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself, noticing how his anger seemed to upset her more. "Meems, please talk to me, tell me what happened."

She shakily recounted the events from the day before to Takeru, and Taichi rolled out of bed to grab his laptop and then slid back under the covers. Takeru noticed that he was looking at flights from Tokyo to New York, and he smiled gratefully. When she'd finished telling Takeru about Michael's affair and love child, and after he'd took several calming breaths, he silently vowed to murder Michael the next time he saw him.

"I'm so sorry, Mimi; I am so, so sorry." He whispered, feeling at a complete loss for words. "I can be on the next flight to New York; you just say the world and I'll be there." Her voice hitched as she tried to speak again. Takeru couldn't understand a word that she had said, and he'd asked her to repeat it.

"I'm pregnant, Takeru," she whispered. "Oh God, I'm pregnant!" She launched into full hysterics, sobbing uncontrollably and he blanched, feeling faint. With more calmness than he knew he possessed, he told her that he would be on the first flight that he could and to see her soon. He hung up the phone, staring into the blackness of the room. Concerned, Taichi squeezed his shoulder.

"He left her," he whispered. "He got her pregnant and he left her."

.oO0Oo.

A few hours later, they were standing back in the main terminal of Tokyo's airport, looking completely exhausted. Takeru had finally gotten his ticket, but the flight didn't leave for another two hours. Given the time in the morning, the airport was practically deserted, and they sat next to each other at the gate, munching on fast food breakfast sandwiches.

"I can't believe he left her," Takeru whispered, not for the first time. "I always thought that he might but I never dreamed that he actually would." Taichi wrapped his arm around him, squeezing lightly. He knew how close Mimi and Takeru were; their lives had paralleled one another in a number of tragic ways, and they had supported each other through everything. "Oh, and she's pregnant. How could he leave her when she's carrying his child?" Taichi kissed his cheek, knowing that he wouldn't be able to help. He was too angry at Michael to even formulate his thoughts clearly.

Takeru sighed, leaning into his embrace. "I'm sorry that I'm leaving so soon. You were gone for so long and now that you're finally back I hate that all this has happened." Taichi shook his head, swallowing his bite of food. "It's alright. This is more important, 'Keru." The pulled apart eventually as more people started to file into the terminal and talked until the flight arrived. Yawning, Taichi pulled him in to a tight embrace, kissing his hair. "Call me when you land," he whispered, and Takeru nodded against his chest. They stayed like that for a moment before Takeru pulled away to board his flight. "And 'Keru?" he called. The blonde turned back to look at him once more.

"Bring her home."

.oO0Oo.

The next chapter is on the way! I hope you all are enjoying this story. Sorry about this chapter if there are any errors! I wrote this pretty fast.

Thanks! Ashes.


	4. Truth

Woohoo! I finally got another chapter done! Sorry for the delay, people. The first draft of my thesis was due a couple of weeks ago, and all of my available writing energy and free time went to working on that. But, thankfully, I have some time off before I have to get working on it again, so I'm hoping to get a lot of the chapters of this and _Innocence Lost_ done before that time rolls around. Thanks for reading; I really hope everyone enjoys this story!

Warnings: Angst. Lots and lots of angst. Other than the guy being a movie star, this chapter is based on the actual events of the life of someone I know (this who story is, actually. Woo!), but I don't think I was so good at relaying emotions (brain fried on thesis, afterall).

.oO0*0Oo.

**Forward Motion**

_Chapter 4_

_Truth_

.oO0*0Oo.

Mimi groaned as she began to wake up. For a moment, she managed to convince herself that everything had been a bad, horrible, awful dream. Her eyes were scratchy and dry from crying, but she told herself that was because of fatigue. She had fallen asleep outside of the covers, but that was because it was an unseasonably warm night. Glancing at the clock, she saw that it was nearly five in the morning, and decided that she may as well start getting ready for work.

It wasn't until she'd reached the bathroom and took in the sight of her wrinkled dress and her mussed up hair that everything hit her like a freight train.

She felt like she could cry, but no tears came. Sighing, she looked down at her flat stomach, knowing that it would be growing soon. She wondered how people would look at her, pregnant with no wedding ring. She lifted her left hand, staring blankly at the three twinkling stones set within the elegantly styled ring. She should take it off, shouldn't she? She willed herself to pull it from her finger, but her hands never moved. She sighed; she'd take it off tomorrow.

A hollow feeling settled itself inside of her chest as she stepped into the warm water of the shower. She was too young to be getting divorced. What would her mother have said? 'Nothing,' she mused to herself, 'because she wouldn't have let you get married so young anyway.' Shaking her head, she began to think about the things she needed to accomplish during the day, making a mental list of the clients she was to see once she got to work. She focused on going through the motions of a normal Thursday morning: showering and fixing her hair, making a large mug of tea, ironing her clothes, and putting on her makeup. By the time she was done, she had nearly two and a half hours before she needed to be at work, so she grabbed a muffin and settled onto the couch to watch the news.

For a while, she zoned out the noise of the television in the background, trying to come up with a plan of what she would tell Sora when they spoke in a few days. She briefly considered calling Takeru; it would only be eight in the evening in Tokyo. She decided against it. She wasn't ready to talk, and knowing Takeru, he would immediately offer to come and stay with her, just as soon as he got back from kicking Michael's ass. She smiled. Takeru really was like a brother to her, despite the fact that for the majority of their friendship they'd lived thousands of miles apart. She picked at her muffin and returned her attention back to the television. Her jaw dropped when she saw who was on the screen.

"We're back, everyone, with two of the hottest stars in Young Hollywood right now. They're staring in next summer's sure to be blockbuster, A Year Without Rain!" the all-too perky female host said. "Please welcome Adele Hawking and Michael Barton Jr.!"

She wanted to faint, but she found herself unable to look away. Adele was a beautiful woman; she'd be a fool to suggest otherwise. She had midnight black hair that was always cut into the latest fashion, currently worn in an asymmetrical bob that framed her face perfectly. Her tanned face was practically perfect and all of her features were balanced and complimented each other beautifully. Her eyes were a piercing and almost unnatural shade of green, which gave her an exotic look. She had the most wonderful body Mimi had ever seen on a human being, with shapely, womanly curves and naturally large breasts. She was tall, too; she'd been a model before she'd got into acting.

Mimi deflated, looking down at her own body. She was scrawny, but she always had been. She remembered wishing all through high school that she would eventually develop like all of her classmates, but she never did. Her body wasn't shapely at all, she thought. Her waist was narrower than her hips, giving her a slight curve, and at least her chest wasn't as flat as before, but she was nothing compared to Adele. She had a pretty face, she knew because other people had told her so, but it was framed with boring brown hair that never seemed to do anything that she wanted. To top it all off, she was short, barely reaching five feet when she stood up completely straight. Even in heels she felt like dwarf next to other women, especially in New York.

She groaned. She'd already lost Michael; she didn't need to lose her self-confidence too. She was healthy and comfortable in her body, and that was all that had ever mattered to her before. She'd stopped listening to the interview while she was evaluating Adele's appearance, but the annoying host posed a question that dry her out of her revere.

"Michael, I thought you were married. Where's that ring of yours?"

She held her breath, subconsciously toying with the ring on her own finger, waiting to hear what he would say. Without a hint of remorse, he replied, "Oh, it was a long time coming, to be honest. I got married too young, got too caught up in young love, you know? It happens all the time, really. I'm not too upset about it." He flashed his trademark smile, and Mimi was furious to see that the happy emotion reached his eyes. She could read him like a book after all of their time together.

Angrily, she yanked off her ring and chucked it at the television, disappointed in the faint _clink_ that it made on impact. She fumbled for the remote, switching the channel to anything other than the news. She felt tears clawing at the back of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.

If he didn't care, then she wouldn't give a damn either.

.oO0*0Oo.

By lunchtime, she was wishing the day was over. The other women in her office noticed her missing wedding ring, and while they tried to be discrete about it, she heard their whisperings about it. Right after she'd gotten into work, their lawyer had called, saying that he would be willing to represent both of them during their divorce if she would like. She'd agreed; she liked Gregory and knew that she could trust him to not take advantage of her. Besides, they had a pre-nup; how messy could this divorce get? He'd scheduled a meeting for the three of them at three o'clock, and Mimi had been dreading seeing Michael again all day.

She pulled out the salad she had brought for lunch and began to lightly drizzle dressing on top of it when one of the receptionists, a young girl named Karin, poked her head in. Timidly, she asked, "Do you mind if I eat lunch in here?" Mimi shook her head; she was a nice girl and they had eaten together many times before. Most of the women that worked in this office were practically insane, chasing one diet trend after another to push on their clients while attempting to get into modeling or acting or Broadway. It had always bothered her that she worked with seemed to care so little about their jobs. She liked Karin; the girl worked full time while attending the Manhattan School of Music and Mimi had to admire that kind of dedication. She was calm and level headed and about Mimi's age, so they would often find times to hang out together outside of work.

"They're talking about you, you know," she said as she sat, and Mimi groaned. "Making up their own stories about you and whatnot." Karin rolled her eyes. "It's disgusting." Mimi smiled softly, grateful that the girl appeared to be on her side. "Do you want to talk about it? I saw the interview this morning."

Mimi rested her head on her hand, elbow propped on her desk as she idly picked at her salad. "There's not much to say," she murmured. "He came home, said he was in love with someone else, and left," For now, she decided it was best to leave out her pregnancy. She wasn't a fan of abortion, but ever sense she'd seen the interview this morning she'd had a nagging voice in her had that told her it might not be such a bad idea. 'No, no, no,' she mentally scolded.

Karin scoffed. "He's an idiot. He knew you'd have a chance of seeing that interview." She sighed. "He never was the brightest bulb, was he?" Mimi almost laughed at that; Karin always had that effect on her. The rest of their meal was splattered with light conversation, and Karin wished her luck for the meeting. The rest of the day passed uneventfully enough, with co-workers randomly poking their heads in to evaluate her mental state. Most of them didn't know who she was married for, save for Karin and her boss, and at the moment, she was grateful for that. By two thirty, she was locking her office door and headed to her lawyers office. There were a few hushed whispers as she headed out, but she shrugged them off. Those girls loved to gossip. Karin flashed her a smile and a thumbs up sign as she made her way out the door.

Once she reached the ground floor and headed out of the building, she decided to walk. It was another beautiful afternoon, and walking would give her the opportunity to clear her head and calm her nerves before she got there. The walk didn't last long enough; she reached the office in no time, and a feeling of dread settled itself in her throat. No matter how many deep breaths she took, she couldn't seem to squash her nerves. Frustrated, she took a seat in the waiting room, fiddling with the hem of her skirt while she waited for Gregory to call her in, hoping that Michael would be predictably late.

It had been in vain, she sighed, spying Michael waltzing into the office as though he didn't have a care in the world. His confidence faltered a bit once he saw her, but he tried to cover it up. Like a child, Mimi wished that he wouldn't sit next to her; the waiting room was empty after all and he could sit anywhere he liked. Once again, it failed, as Michael sat next to her, clearing his throat as soon as he did.

"Hey," he whispered, his voice sounding weak and more than a little afraid. Mimi didn't look at him. "Nice interview," she snapped, and he visibly winced. "I was hoping you hadn't seen that," he said, and she resisted the urge to scream at him. "My publicist told me to say that, you know. He thinks it'll give me a bad image if I'm seen sulking all over the place." She glared at him. "Do you think I'm an idiot?" she seethed, keeping her voice low and controlled. "I know you, Michael. I know how relieved you are to not be tied down anymore. I know that this is making you happy. I can tell."

He sighed, not wanting to make the situation worse. "I'm not happy about hurting you, you know?" he whispered. She looked at him and she could tell that he was being sincere. Her anger dissipated a little, and she whispered, "I know."

They sat in silence for a few minutes until the receptionist led them into their lawyer's office. Gregory Sherman was an intimidating but friendly man. He had been Michael's father's lawyer for years before eventually representing the two of them. Mimi had never interacted with him much, but the times she had were always pleasant experiences. Michael worked with him a lot, battling against tabloid allegations and doing his best to keep Mimi out of the spotlight. She dimly remembered that the last time she'd been in his office was when they were drafting their prenuptial agreement, and they had both laughed at how ridiculous it was that Michael's father had insisted they have one.

Gregory smiled as they both sat opposite of him at his desk after shaking hands in greeting. He sighed. "You know, I have to be honest. I never thought the two of you would be sitting here in front of me like this." Michael shrugged his shoulders and Mimi stared at her lap. Gregory's smiled faded, but he continued. "So, what's the reasoning for filing a petition for divorce?" he asked, his voice taking on a business tone. "Irreconcilable differences," Michael asserted, and Mimi felt her anger flare up within her. "Alright," Gregory murmured, making a few notes on the page in front of him. He explained the paperwork to them, requesting their signatures every now and then. He then had them fill out paperwork for a legal separation, and by the end of it all, Mimi's head was spinning with legal jargon and emotions. Divorce was certainly not something that someone could enter into by accident.

"Now," Gregory said, pulling out another, larger file. "We need to go through the prenuptial and make sure we're on the same page. If either one of you wants to contest something, we might have to take this to court to get everything settled, okay?" Mimi nodded mutely; she was beginning to feel numb. She didn't think they'd be signing paperwork today. Everything was moving so fast.

It was moving too fast.

"I think I need to get a drink of water," she whispered, and Gregory nodded sympathetically. He pressed the intercom on his desk and asked the reception to bring them all a glass and Mimi sipped at the cold liquid gratefully. "Are you alright?" Michael asked with genuine concern in his voice and she nodded. Suddenly, she just wanted this to all be over. "Ready to continue?" Gregory asked, and she nodded again.

"Now," he began, "I need to know the exact reason behind this divorce." Michael stared at his lap, fiddling with his hands, before answering. "I've been having an affair," he said simply, his voice quiet. Gregory's jaw dropped in disbelief, and Mimi felt her cheeks burn with shame. He recovered quickly, flipping to the section that dictated what would happen if one of them had an affair, and began to read on. Since Michael had been unfaithful, Mimi was legally entitled to half of his assets, but she shook her head. "No," she whispered softly. "I don't need all of that. Didn't you say that we could split it so that I would wind up with what I've earned during our marriage and he can keep his earnings?"

Michael stared at her. He'd expected her to take everything that she could, and, if he was honest with himself, he knew that he wouldn't have put up a fight about it if she had. "Are you sure?" he asked, and Mimi sighed. "I don't need to be rich, Michael. I don't need to live in a multi-million dollar penthouse in New York City. I lived that life because it was what you wanted, and I wanted what you wanted." Her voice held no emotion, only fatigue, and he looked down at his lap intently. He really had forgotten what kind of person she had been when they first fell in love. She was selfless, kind, and honest, and he had been a fool for forgetting that about her.

"What about the baby?" he asked tentatively. "I mean, I know I said that I didn't want to be involved with raising it, but I should probably help out financially, right?" Mimi shook her head, and Gregory gaped at them. "You're pregnant?" he asked, disbelieving, and she nodded, not meeting his gaze. He flipped through the paperwork quickly before speaking again. "You're entitled to $10,000 a month in child support." Mimi gulped. That was a huge amount of money. If she had that, she wouldn't have to work anymore and she could spend all of her time taking care of the baby. She considered it for a moment, and then shook her head, feeling guilty with herself. Her mother had been offered something like that too, but she'd turned it down, determined to make her own way in life. Just yesterday, she'd wanted to do the same, and this was her opportunity.

Gregory stared intently at her. "Are you positive? You need to be sure, because as soon as I put it on record that you've declined it, you're not going to be able to get it back." Michael put his hand on her shoulder to get her attention. "You can have it, Mimi. I'm not going to be an ass about it, I promise. Don't be stupid; you know you can't do this by yourself." With that, Mimi's anger reached its boiling point. "You're not my father, Michael, although you seem to be doing a good job of trying," she snapped, and he pulled away from her, surprised at her outburst. "My mother did a damn fine job of taking care of me by herself; don't you dare tell me that I can't!"

"Mimi, please," Gregory began. "You have to think seriously about this. I can't undo if you change your mind later." Mimi shook her head. "I'm sure. I don't want it. I don't want his help." Gregory sighed, realizing that he was on the losing end of this battle. "And you are positive?" he asked, just once more.

"One hundred percent."

.oO0*0Oo.

By the time she'd left, all of their paperwork had been completed. Gregory had promised that he would push their separation through as quickly as possible so that they could get started on the waiting period for their divorce. But now, officially, she was single and on her own. She sighed; who knew what a difference twenty-four hours would make. Just yesterday, she was on cloud nine, discovering that she was expecting with her beloved husband, and now she was alone.

She had agreed to move out of the penthouse within the next two months so that Michael could sell it and get started on his new life in Los Angeles. She had called out of work for the next day, much to her boss's displeasure, since she had missed that last two afternoons of work already. She'd stopped by a Realty office on her way back home to pick up some apartment guides before dipping into her favorite corner grocery to get some supplies for her evening.

"I wish I wasn't pregnant," she murmured as she walked past the wine aisle. A glass or two of wine would certainly be enough to relax her, but she settled instead on grabbing some ice cream and a bag of potato chips. Once she got home, she grabbed a spoon before settling into the couch with her treats. She turned on the television and began to idly watch the Food Network while eating a flipping through her apartment guide. She felt oddly calm, and was concerned that her emotions were all out of sorts and that she really should be feeling something more. She had just doomed herself to a life of single parenthood and relative poverty in New York City.

She wrinkled her nose as she flipped through the guide; the city was much more expensive that she'd remembered. She and her mother had lived in a fairly nice part of town, and she wondered how she had managed to pay for it all. She must have had some money tucked away somewhere for a rainy day. She kept looking through the guide, determined to find something that would fall into her price range, when a thought struck her.

"I could go anywhere," she whispered. She didn't have to stay in the city; she could go wherever in the world that she wanted. There were so many places in America that she loved, and now there was nothing holding her back from going to live somewhere new. She could even go back to Japan and be with all of her friends again. 'No,' she thought sadly, 'not for now. They all thought Michael was a mistake, and all you've done is prove them right. No, I can't face them yet.' She groaned, flopping herself down on the couch as she remembered the night before their wedding, when Takeru had vehemently tried to talk her out of the marriage.

"_Meems, look, he's never around. He lives on the other side of the country for crying out loud. If he's not willing to compromise with you about that, how can you expect him to for anything else?"_

"_Him living over there is a compromise, Takeru," she defended. "I'm the one who doesn't want to be in the spotlight and didn't want to move to California, and he didn't force me to go."_

"_That's probably because if you're not there he gets to do whatever he wants. I'm just saying, Mimi, that I don't think he's good for you. I don't think anyone except you think that he even loves you." She began to cry then, and he decided to change tactics. "Look, if you think this is the right thing for you then go for it, alright? We'll all support you. We'll all be there for you, okay?"_

"_Stop saying those things about him," she demanded. "They're not true. If I asked him to stay in New York with me when he wasn't filming then he would, and I know it. He's not like all of those other guys in Hollywood, okay? He grew up in the business; he knows how to handle himself."_

Takeru had let up. In fact, he's never so much as uttered a negative word about Michael to her again. She rubbed her eyes, feeling tired, but not yet wanting to go to sleep. If he was a meaner person, Takeru would surely tell her, "I told you so," but she knew that he would be better than that. If anyone would, he would understand her situation completely. She groaned, remembering the entire Hikari fiasco, and how broken and devastated he had been after that.

She wondered if she felt that she did. She certainly wasn't acting like it. Takeru had been in tears for days, refusing to go out and go to school or do much of anything while he mourned Hikari's betrayal. Mimi had hopped right up out of bed that morning and pulled herself together; she was doing the things she needed to do for work and getting a start on her divorce all in less than twelve hours. There was a six month waiting period, she remembered Gregory telling them, before the divorce would be finalized in a court hearing, and then it would all be done. Everything would be tucked away and taken care of before the baby was due to be born. All she needed to do was find a new place to live.

She spied to sonogram photo sitting on the end table, and she sat up to examine it again. The baby didn't look like much right now, she mused. There was a large head and a large belly, with two stumpy arms and two stumpy legs. The nurse had told her that the fetus was in fantastic shape developmentally, which had helped to ease some of her concerns. When she first found out that she was two months pregnant, she panicked. In the last two months she had done many things that pregnant women should never do. She'd gone out drinking with Karin, she'd fallen down the stairs, and she'd skipped meals almost every morning on her way to work, yet the baby was still healthy. She smiled, thinking about how exciting the next seven months of her life was going to be.

She was excited to be a mother; it was something she had always dreamed of. Michael had thrown a wrench in the plans, but other than that, she couldn't be happier. Maybe that was what kept her from feeling too distraught over Michael's affair. She was convinced that once things settled down he would realize how important this baby was to him, and that he would change his mind about not wanting visitation rights or having anything to do with the child. She traced the outline of the child's head, praying that the baby would look more like her than him, or maybe a mix of the both of them. She imagined a young boy with her honey brown hair and Michael's blue eyes and smiled. 'Yes,' she thought to herself. 'A boy; I hope this baby is a boy.'

She fell asleep like that, sprawled on the couch with the sonogram photo curled in her hand.

.oO0*0Oo.

She woke up early the next morning, half expecting that she needed to get ready for work. She was glad that she'd called in the day before once a wave of morning sickness washed over her and she rushed to the bathroom.

Once her stomach calmed, she walked to her office in search of a few of her textbooks from college. She knew that most of them had chapters on how to create nutrition plans for expectant mothers, and she wanted to make sure that she covered all of the areas she needed to. In the two years that she'd worked as a nutritionist, she'd never had a pregnant woman as one of her clients, and she was a little rusty on the material. It only took her about an hour to modify her current nutrition plan to accommodate for the baby, and afterwards she set out at cooking the perfect breakfast.

After she ate and showered, she decided that she might as well check out some of the more affordable apartments on her list. Her morning was spent wrinkling her nose at the state of some of the apartments, and she groaned, slowly coming to the realization that she should probably move out of the city. She decided to head home and make a pro and con list of staying in the city versus moving back to Japan. Once she finished, her chart overwhelming suggested that she return to her home country, but she pushed it aside. 'I can't face them like this,' she thought, 'I can't stand them all getting to see how right they were.' She groaned, conflicted with her options, and instead began to look at real estate in other parts of New York.

By noon, her world started to crumble apart.

After lunch, she had decided that she should start packing. She called the doorman and asked someone to send up some boxes, and they arrived fairly quickly. She's started with her office, deciding that she would probably need her books the least. She remembered that she'd left a few things in Michael's office, and walked across the hall to retrieve them. The box she needed was up on a higher shelf, and it contained all of the pictures of their wedding that she hadn't gotten around to scrapbooking yet. She may no longer be married, but those were the most recent pictures of all of her friends together that she had, and she would be damned if she let an insignificant detail like divorce cause her to lose those pictures.

She finally succeeded in pulling her box down, but not without causing another box that had been sitting on top of it to topple to the floor, spilling its contents at Mimi's feet. She cursed under her breath, picking up the pieces of paper and photos that had fallen out. She hadn't meant to be snooping, but one particular photograph caught her attention.

It was Michael, his arms wrapped around a busty blond, with his tongue down her throat.

She paled, whipping the picture around to examine the back and see if there was a date on it, feeling despair when she noticed that there was none. She began to search through the box, and started to feel sick as she pulled photograph after photograph of Michael engaged in sexual behaviors with other women. Most of them were just kissing, but several were more explicit. She counted as she looked through, deciding that there were at least five different women, none of them she recognized. The papers were mostly threatening notes, declaring that they would destroy him publically if he didn't pay them off in some way. Some of them were addressed to her, and she assumed that some of the pictures were meant for her, to expose Michael's cheating ways before it became too late. What disturbed her most, however, was the fact that many of them were postmarked before they were married.

She sat on the floor of his office for a while, staring at all of the pictures and wondering how she had been so stupid. _"I don't think anyone except you even thinks that he loves you,"_ Takeru's voice rang in her head. She felt numb, as though she were simply reading the tabloids about some other poor woman's husband. She had no idea how long she sat there, but she was startled out of her thoughts when she heard someone clearing their throat at the doorway. She looked up, recognizing Michael, and felt her calmness dissolve into complete anger.

"I thought you'd be at work," he said sheepishly, but his eyes widened when he saw what she was looking at. "Mimi, look, I can explain…"

"How?" she snapped, "How can you explain all of this?" She stood up, approaching him in the doorway, feeling slightly satisfied when he began to back away from her. "How many women, Michael? Don't you dare lie to me this time. How many other women have you slept with since we've been together?" He looked down at the floor, wringing his hands together and trying desperately to come up with an excuse. "God dammit, Michael! How many?" she shouted, in a voice that she barely recognized was her own.

"Nine," he whispered, and Mimi felt the breath rush out of her lungs. She stared at him blankly, before slamming the door in his face. She leaned against it, breathing heavily and trying desperately to calm herself down.

"Mimi, open the door. I can explain," Michael pleaded, his voice sounded strained. "How can you explain this, Michael?" she called back, feeling tears pricking at the back of her eyes. "How could you have done this to me?" She heard him sigh, then a soft thud sounded on the door, and she imagined that he had rested his forehead against it. "I got lonely without you," he began lamely, and Mimi scoffed at his reply. "Like hell you were," she muttered, trying to keep her anger in check. "Why'd you ask me to marry you, then?"

"Look, Mimi, I know it was wrong, okay?" He pleaded. "I know I shouldn't have been with those women, but it's different in L.A. than here. If you're young, it's expected that you go out and drink and party and sleep with people you barely know, and I told myself I wasn't going to be that guy, but it happened anyway. I'd go out with my cast mates and they'd dare me to get with some girl and I'd drink until it was a good idea and I'd do it." She covered her mouth with her hand, stifling a sob and hoping that he hadn't heard it. "I'd always tell myself it was okay because I didn't love them, and that I loved you, and only you, so I stopped after we'd been married for a few months. But then Adele came along, and I couldn't help it. I was in love with her, and she knew it. I swore I'd never be unfaithful to you again but I couldn't control myself."

She sank down to the floor, still learning against the door, as silent sobs wracked her body. "Once I knew, Mimi, once I knew for sure that I had made a mistake in getting married so young, I told you." He sighed again. "I'm never going to be able to make up for this; I know. Everything I've done in our relationship has been a mistake, Mimi; I haven't done a single thing right. I thought if I proposed I'd start to control myself. I thought if I went through with the marriage that I'd be able to quit. I thought our relationship would fix all of our problems, but I was wrong." A loud sob escaped her throat, despite her efforts to control herself. "Mimi, please, let me in," he called, his voice sounding desperate.

Several more moments of silence passed, and she finally heard Michael heave a sigh and recognized the sound of his feet shuffling along the ground as he walked away. She pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms tightly around her legs and willing herself not to cry. They were right, she told herself miserably. Every single one of her friends had been able to pinpoint Michael as a horrible person for her, as someone who didn't truly love her, but she'd ignored them and pressed on with their relationship, so determined that she was right. Now she'd just gone and made a fool of herself. She thought of some of her friends and how they would react to the news.

She could see Sora's sad smile, as she shook her head and offered to make her some tea.

She could see Yamato, a sympathetic expression on his face, but his eyes mocking her, saying, "I told you so."

She could see Takeru, pulling her into a brotherly hug while trying to disguise the emotions of hatred and anger on his face.

She could see Taichi, rushing to the ticket counter at the airport to personally kick Michael's ass.

She sighed, realizing with an empty sadness that she wouldn't really see any of them when she told them the news, and for the first time in a very long time, she wished that she had never left Japan. Her life in New York had been a number of failures and disappointments, and while she was glad to have had those experiences, she couldn't let go of the childish wish that she had never left home. She wished she had stayed the adoration of her father, getting spoiled and treated like a princess. Maybe, if they'd stayed in Japan, he mother would have never gotten sick, and they'd still be the happy family she remembered from her childhood. Maybe she'd have fallen for a nice guy, like Taichi or Yamato or Jyou, instead of wasting her time with Michael.

She had no idea how long she'd sat there, silent tears running down her face as she lost herself deep within her thoughts, but the ringing of her phone from the living room gently brought her back to reality. She sighed, standing up straight, listening to the various bones in her body pop back into place after sitting in such an awkward position for so long. Her muscles were sore, and she thought it might be a good time to go to sleep, despite that it was only late afternoon. She walked into the living room, retrieving her cell phone just as the person finished leaving a voicemail. She flipped it open to see who had called and paled.

Her father.

"How dare he!" she screamed out loud, wondering why the man who had abandoned her so many years ago suddenly wanted to talk. Her anger grew, as the thoughts from the afternoon drifted back into her head. "This is all his fault," she decided. All of the horrible things that had happened to her were caused by him, because he was the one who demanded they leave Japan. Her anger bubbled and grew until she felt as though she could not stand it anymore, but as quickly as it came, it dissolved, leaving a wave of sadness and regret in its wake, and she broke.

She collapsed onto the couch, sobs completely taking her over until she found that she could hardly breathe. She felt as though her heart was being ripped out of her chest, and the pain radiated throughout her body in waves of ice-cold blood running through her veins. She couldn't stand it; she needed someone, something. Dimly realizing that she still held her phone in her hand, she dialed the number of someone she knew wouldn't judge her in this state. She tried to calm herself as the rings sounded in her ear, desperately sucking in deep breaths as the rings continued. Finally, a groggy voice answered with a sleepy, "Hello?"

"Takeru."

.oO0*0Oo.

As always, please leave a review! They keep me going and make me feel like this little hobby of mine isn't a total waste of time.


	5. Reboot

Author's notes: I am…not a fan of this chapter, so it will probably get rewritten soon. I'm not super fantastic at writing dialogue, and there's a ton of it in here, so my bad, friends. My computer crashed and I lost a lot of the next chapters for some of my other stories, so since I'd been slacking on this one (mostly because I knew it was going to be a crappy chapter with lots of crappy dialogue) it's the only one I can really get work done on right now. But, the hard drive is being salvaged and I should receive my shiny new disc with all of my old files soon.

Chapter warnings: Some bad words, general angst, crappy dialogue. No big deal.

Ages: I fudged the timeline slightly. Jou is 27. Yamato, Sora, Taichi, Koushirou are 26. Michael is 25. Mimi and Ken are 24. Miyako is 23. Takeru, Daisuke, and Hikari are 21. Iori is 20.

.o.0.0.o.

**Forward Motion**

A Digimon Fanfiction

_Chapter 5: Reboot_

.o.0.0.o.

She'd busied herself with packing for the rest of the evening. It comforted her greatly to know that Takeru was on his way, but she hated that she was making him endure twenty-six hours of travel that included an eight hour layover in South Korea. He was going to be exhausted when he got here, so she resolved to cook him a nice meal and send him straight to bed before demanding that he help her with all of her problems.

When dinnertime came, she didn't feel much like eating, but she forced herself to anyway. She'd committed to having this baby, with or without Michael's support, and she would be damned if she intentionally did anything to harm him.

_Him_. She sighed, wondering when it was that she determined this child was a boy. The ultrasound technician had told her that it would probably be another month before they would be able to tell, but the feeling had already settled itself in her gut, only two days in. She groaned, depositing her empty take out carton on the coffee table and leaning back onto the couch. She glanced around at the living room, pleased with the progress that she'd made in her packing. Her office was completely packed away, and the majority of her things from the living room were neatly stored as well. Idly, she wondered how long it would take to finish packing. She didn't care if she had two whole months; she wanted to be out of this place as soon as she could.

She was going back to Japan, she'd finally decided. In her heart, she knew that she always belonged there, but it had taken her brain so much longer to catch up. Her thoughts drifted to her friends once more. She hoped they would be supportive; she couldn't bear it if she came home and all they ever did was pity her. She could handle them being angry or disappointed in her, but she didn't think she could take any pity.

She stared at the phone, debating what to do. She wanted to talk to someone, just to let all of her pent up emotions out. She _wanted_ them to know now, because she _needed _them to know for her to move on. She couldn't deal with this on her own; right now it felt like her own personal dirty secret. She just wanted everything to be open and clear and just _fucking_ over with. She waged war with herself before finally picking up the phone and dialing Sora's number.

"Mimi! What are you calling me for? It's not our normal time."

"Oh, Sora. There's just been a lot going on, I suppose," she said, failing to keep the sadness out of her voice.

"Are you near your computer? You sound sad; Etsy will cheer you up."

She laughed. "Okay, I'll go and get it. Call you back in a few?"

"Yes! Talk to you soon," Sora replied, and she could hear the smile in her voice.

She rummaged around in her bedroom for a few moments before finally coming up with her laptop. She made herself comfortable on her bed and fluffed out her hair, hoping that she looked at least half way presentable, before calling her friend back.

She was greeted after a few seconds by a wildly smiling Sora, who was holding Etsuko's hands and waving them at her.

"Oh my goodness, she's gotten so big!" Mimi exclaimed. She hadn't seen pictures of the girl in quite a while, not since her first birthday. She couldn't wait for her baby to be born so that she could have the same kind of joy that Sora had every day.

"I know, hasn't she?" Sora replied, practically beaming. "I want to show you something; you're going to be so excited!" She reached around the computer, searching for something, before she held up a small square of paper that Mimi instantly recognized.

"Oh my God," she breathed, staring at the sonogram photo in awe. "You're pregnant? When?"

Sora was beaming from ear to ear. "I'm only about a month along. We wouldn't have really found out so early, but I had to go and get some blood work done, and it came back saying that I was pregnant."

"How'd Yamato take it?" she asked, smirking slightly. When he'd learned of her first pregnancy, he promptly fainted, then declared he would be a "cool dad" to make all of the other fathers jealous.

"Oh, I haven't told him yet. He was gone on a business trip this past week when I found out, and he's not coming back until later tonight." Etsuko laughed, playing with one of her toys, and Sora smiled fondly.

Mimi sighed, doubting herself again. Would she be able to do this? All of her friends with children didn't work. Miyako had decided to become a full-fledged housewife, and Sora ran her flower shop exclusively from home now, only stopping in when absolutely necessary and always bringing Etsy with her. Plus, they had their adoring husbands to help out. When did everything go wrong for her?

"So what's bothering you?" Sora asked gently, intruding on her thoughts. "You're not yourself."

Mimi took a deep breath, hoping that Sora would be supportive and understanding. It was time to take the plunge. "Michael left me," she said quietly, not looking at the screen to see her reaction.

Sora sighed; to be honest she had wondered when this would happen. Michael had never been particularly loving and caring towards Mimi, especially after they got married. "I'm sorry," she said gently, genuinely meaning it.

"You knew it was going to happen, didn't you?" she asked, looking up at the screen again.

"I don't know. I mean…" she paused, chewing her lip. "He just didn't seem right for you, that's all."

"Did you think he loved me?" she asked, genuinely wanting to know, her suspicious confirmed when she saw the other woman wince.

"I thought he did, at first, but after everything happened, I don't know. You had to grow up so much, so quickly, and I don't think he followed. I don't think he was ready to settle down, you know?"

Mimi sighed. "Takeru tried to warn me, too. Oh, I'm such an idiot," she moaned. Part of her wanted to be angry, and yell at Sora for not telling her too, but she knew that was unjustified. Sora had ever only wanted for her to be happy.

"No, you're not. You loved him, deeply. You're the one who told me to follow my own heart, right?" she said offering a small smile that Mimi returned. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"He got his costar pregnant and decided that he didn't envision himself having a family with me," she said bluntly.

"What? When did this happen?" Sora gaped, startling Etsuko and making the small girl pout after dropping her toy. Sora quickly recovered, grabbing the toy and doing her best to soothe the child to avoid making her cry.

"A couple of days ago, when he came back from a break on his movie. Oh, and he slept with nine other women while we were together, apparently. I've got pictures," she said, her voice flat.

Sora shook her head, looking genuinely shocked. "That asshole," she muttered, her eyes angry.

"And I'm pregnant too," she said, quietly, wondering how Sora would react, and wondering how it was that all of the truth had just spilled out of her mouth without her really noticing.

Sora couldn't think of anything to say, and she wished that she had heard all of this news in person. She saw the glimmer of tears in Mimi's eyes and felt the prickly beginnings of her own tears. "Oh, Mimi. I'm so sorry," she whispered. "How far along are you?"

"Two months," she said quietly, suddenly becoming very interested in her fingernails.

"Oh, and you're so little that you'll probably start showing soon. Mimi, that's exciting! Wait, you are excited about it, aren't you?"

She nodded, swallowing down the lump in her throat. "Yes, I am. I'm so excited; I've always wanted to be a mother." Sora nodded, remembering their conversations from when they were younger.

"You'll be a great mom, Mimi," she said, her voice sincere.

"I'm moving back to Japan," she said quietly, smiling a bit to herself when she saw Sora's face light up.

"Really? Seriously, Mimi, you're not kidding with me, are you? We all miss you so much," she said, her eyes pleading.

"Yes, I'm serious!" she said, suddenly feeling much better. "Well, provided I can find a job. I can't afford to live in New York anymore, and I know that I could go anywhere in America and settle down, but I don't really know anyone. I don't think I can do this all by myself."

"You won't have to. Goodness, your baby is going to be so lucky to be here! We'll give them all the family they could ever need."

"It'll be nice for the babies to grow up together, too," she said quietly, and Sora grinned.

"Oh, they'll have play dates and everything! Maybe they'll grow up and marry each other and then we'll be even more of a family than we already are."

She smiled, feeling more at ease, but her ever present sadness must have shown on her face.

"Are you sure you're okay? Do you want someone to come and stay with you?"

"Takeru's on his way, actually," she said, sighing gently, ignoring Sora's smirk.

"You know, he's still single," she said, waggling her eyebrows. "Don't you want to be sisters?"

Mimi stared at her, eyes and mouth hanging open in shock. "Sora! Don't say things like that. We're just friends." He friend laughed hysterically, causing Etsuko to do the same. The sound of the small child's laugher was infectious, and Mimi found herself laughing too.

"So when are you coming back here?" she asked, excitement obvious in her voice.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I have to find a job first, and then I'll have to put in my two weeks' notice at work. I've been packing up the apartment today. Part of the separation said that I'd move within two months so Michael can sell the place…" her voice trailed off.

"Meems? Are you okay?"

"Oh, my God," she whispered, feeling the tears coming again. "We're getting divorced," she said quietly, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth and squeezing her eyes shut. "I never thought this would ever happen."

Sora wished once again that she could reach out to comfort her friend; it was obvious that, even though the woman was putting up a brave front, Mimi was struggling to come to turns with her drastic change of lifestyle. She wished she had said something earlier. There was always something about Michael that had seemed off with her, and apparently Takeru had felt the same thing. Jyou had too, but she'd stupidly chalked it up to his jealousy.

She didn't deserve this, Sora knew. Mimi was possibly the kindest person she had ever met. Even as an adult, she still carried an air of child-like innocence about her. Seeing someone hurt her was like watching someone kick a puppy or steal an elderly woman's purse. It pulled on her heart strings and made her want to take action. She'd been through enough in her short life, and now she was faced with the reality of raising a child on her own.

"It's all going to be okay, Meems. We're all here for you."

Mimi sniffled, composing herself again. "I know. I'm so lucky to have you guys."

"Is there anything I can do to help you out?" she offered. "I can bug Jyou and see if he knows of any openings at the hospital."

"No, I want to call Jyou and tell him what happened myself." A thought struck her suddenly. "Sora, please don't tell anyone about this, at least not yet."

The other woman nodded, looking down at her young daughter who was starting to fall asleep in her lap. "Maybe I can help you find somewhere to live for a while?"

Mimi smiled at that. "That would be wonderful, Sora," she said. Suddenly, her face darkened. "Oh, this is really all happening, isn't it?" A few tears slipped out then, and she heard Sora sigh heavily.

"It really is going to be alright. It'll take some time for you to get back on your feet, I'm sure. We'll all be here to help you; you're not alone."

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak, feeling immensely grateful for Sora's support. She wasn't disappointed in her. She didn't pity her. She was simply doing her best to give her all the help she could possibly need. She hoped the rest of their friends would react the same way.

"Hey, I've got to go and put this one down for a nap; she was up so early this morning and she's going to get fussy soon." Mimi nodded, still seeming distracted.

"Of course. Take care of yourself, too. Do you want a diet plan?" Sora laughed then, shaking her head. "Okay. I can't wait to see you soon."

"You're stronger than you give yourself credit for, Meems," she said, her tone very serious. "You're going to get through this, I know. I love you. _We_ love you. You know that you can count on us for anything. We're all the dysfunctional family you'll ever need."

Mimi laughed at the same time that a few more tears leaked their way out, and she knew she must look a sight. She took a deep breath to steady herself, because she knew she was going to break soon. Etsuko started to fidget and whimper, so she pulled herself together to say goodbye.

"Call me if you need _anything_; I mean it," her friend murmured.

She flopped back down on the bed, breathing a deep sigh of relief. Takeru knew. Sora knew. They hadn't judged her and they hadn't thrown her mistake back in her face. Idly, she wondered why she ever thought they could have in the first place. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling a few tears slip out once more.

"No," she told herself firmly. "No more crying over him."

From the living room, her phone rang, and she reluctantly pulled herself up to answer it, in case Takeru was having travel troubles or going insane from boredom during his layover. She wasn't prepared to see Jyou's name flashing across the caller ID.

"Hello?" she answered quickly, wondering if everything was alright.

"Mimi! Hi!" Jyou answered, sounding surprised that she had picked up. "I didn't wake you up or anything did I?"

She resisted the urge to laugh. "It's eight on a Friday night; of course you didn't wake me up."

"Oh, I guess you're right. I'm still really jet lagged. Feels like it should be Saturday morning."

"Wait, jet lagged? Where are you?" Her throat constricted, and she hoped that by some off chance he was in New York.

"I just landed in New York," he said, and she felt her heart jump in her throat. "I should have called you before I left, but I didn't know I was coming until the last minute."

"What brings you here then?" she asked, hoping that he would be able to make time to see her.

"A medical conference. They were sending someone else from out hospital but they backed out at the last minute so I would up getting to go instead." She heard him take a deep breath, and when he spoke again his voice was a bit shaky. "So, are you doing anything tonight then? I don't have to be anywhere until the morning and I'm too awake to sleep."

She smiled. "You know, my evening is booked pretty solid; I don't know if I can fit you in."

Jyou laughed. "You're a terrible liar," he joked, glad that he no longer was so nervous around Mimi. "Do you want me to meet you somewhere or pick you up?"

"I'll come to you," she said. "Send me the address of where you're staying."

"Okay. I just got into a cab from the airport, so I should be there soon."

Her chest suddenly constricted, as she suddenly felt the pain of the last few days once again. "Okay," she choked out, hoping he didn't notice the change in her voice.

"What's wrong?" Damn.

"I'll tell you everything, Jyou. God, I'm so glad you're here," she said, losing her composure almost completely.

"Hey, it's okay. Meems, are you sure you don't want me to just come to you?"

She cleared her throat. "No, I need to get out of here, to be honest." She took a deep breath to steady herself. "I'll see you soon, okay?"

"Okay. Be careful."

.o.0.0.o.

She knew that she must have looked a mess when the doorman looked at her skeptically on her way out. The valet wondered why she hadn't driven her car in months when she went to pick it up. And, as luck would have it, she ran into the building superintendent, who noticed and pointed out her missing wedding ring. Fantastic.

She sighed, finally in the safety of her own car, and looked at the mirror to see how bad she looked. She had no makeup on at all, making the dark circles under her eyes more apparent. Her hair was a mess, pulled back into a sloppy ponytail. She'd opted for a t-shirt and sweat pants, and she certainly didn't look high class enough to be living in that particular building.

Suddenly, New York seemed oppressive and judgmental. She couldn't wait to leave.

The drive to Jyou's hotel didn't take long, but it gave her plenty of time to second guess her decision to talk to him about all of this. When they were younger, he'd had a rather large crush on her, but she was pretty sure he had grown out of it, especially after she'd gotten married.

She wished he hadn't. More than ever, she wished he would have interrupted the ceremony to declare his love for her, to tell her that she was making a mistake. She wouldn't have listened, of course, but at least she would have known how he felt.

"You can't spend the rest of your life wishing for things to be different," she muttered as she got out of her car, handing the keys to the valet.

She grimaced at her mirrored reflection as she stepped into the elevator, checking her phone once again for Jyou's room number to distract herself. She should have changed into something more presentable. Or showered. By her normal standards, she looked like a bum, but she probably didn't look too different from the slew of tourists in the city.

She found herself in front of his room door and took a deep breath. She knew she was going to have to tell everyone sooner or later, but she was nervous about talking to Jyou. She blamed it on the fact that she hadn't told any of her friends in person yet. She hesitated before knocking, but finally gathered up the courage to do so, practically holding her breath until he opened the door.

She immediately found herself enveloped into a warm hug that she promptly returned. The physical comfort caused tears to spring to her eyes, and she buried her face into his chest, breathing in his familiar scent to calm herself.

"It's so good to see you, Meems," he breathed, his hold on her not loosening one bit. "It's been so long." He was right; she hadn't seen him since her wedding.

That _damn_ wedding.

Without warning, her control over her emotions broke, and she found herself sobbing into his chest.

She wasn't sure what happened over the next hour or so. She knew he had pulled her inside the room, holding her close as she cried. She'd told him everything but for the life of her she couldn't remember what exactly she'd said. When she'd finally finished, sitting curled against him on the small couch in the room, he squeezed her tightly before placing a kiss on the top of her head. The simple gesture made her feel so much better, and she murmured her thanks to him.

"Everything is going to work out, Meems," he said gently, but she could catch a strange tone in his voice. She nodded against his chest, not trusting herself to speak. She was grateful for him, calm, reliable, Jyou. She would have broken down on her own again, crying into her pillow and sleeping fitfully for the third night in a row.

"Come back to Japan," he whispered.

"I am," she said quietly, embarrassed at how her voice cracked. "I just need to find a job first. And somewhere to live."

He released her, tipping her face up to look at him. "Shin's opening a private practice in Tokyo. He's trying to get people from all disciplines too. He's a pediatrician, and he's got an obstetrician, a psychiatrist, two dermatologists, and a neurologist. I bet he'd _love_ a nutritionist, too." He smirked, clearly hinting at his older brother's crush on her. "When I finish my residency next year I'll be there as an oncologist, but I'll still be doing surgeries at the hospital."

"Really?" she asked, hardly believing she could be that lucky. It would probably be a pain to work for Shin; out of all the people she knew in Japan he was the most likely to poke fun at her, aside from Yamato.

He nodded, smiling. "He should be opening by the end of the month. He's already got a whole list of patients that are ready to go." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "I'll call him now."

She blanched, feeling slightly embarrassed as she eavesdropped on their conversation. At first, Shin sounded wary, but as soon as Jyou mentioned her name, he jumped on board. Thankfully, Jyou hadn't disclosed her reasoning for moving back to Japan. She winced; that would certainly be an interesting place to work.

"He's going to send the paper work over to me and call you sometime tomorrow," he said simply, and her jaw dropped.

"Seriously? That simply?" she gaped, and he nodded, smiling wider.

"You forget that Shin loves you, and it'll be a big bonus to have an on-site nutritionist. Dealing with kids with allergies and people with skin conditions and patients recovering from chemotherapy and all. There aren't a whole lot of nutritionists around, for some reason. I think a lot of them wind up actually pursuing a doctorate and working with something else," he explained.

"Oh, Jyou, you're incredible," she breathed. "I can't believe this. Thank you, so much."

He waved his hand nonchalantly. "You know I'd do anything for you, Meems."

He reached forward to brush a strand of hair back behind her ear, but his hand lingered, cupping her cheek gently. His thumb lifted to stroke the thin patch of skin around her eye, pushing the remaining moisture away. Their eyes met, and she resisted the urge to lean closer to him.

She could see it there, the love that he still had for her. It made her heart pound and she fought the urge to lift her head to kiss him. After all these years, he still cared for her the way he had when they were teenagers. Why hadn't she realized it before?

His stomach growled, causing him to laugh with embarrassment, and breaking the spell that had settled over the two of them.

"Room service?" he offered, standing up to locate the menu. She nodded, silently fuming at herself for wanting to kiss him. She had no idea what she was feeling right now, and she had no right to drag him into that confusion.

After Jyou had eaten, and Mimi had snacked on some fruit, they settled back down on the couch to watch some television. He was doing a fantastic job of taking her mind off of things, and she was glad that he had happened to come to New York in her time of need.

After a short while, she dozed off, her head leaning over onto his arm. When he noticed some time later, he nudged her gently to wake her, but she didn't stir. As quietly as possible, he gathered her into his arms and deposited her in the bed. He maneuvered her around to get her under the covers, and was amazed when she didn't stir. 'She probably hasn't slept well since all of this happened,' he thought, watching her face for a moment, remembering how she'd always had trouble sleeping before.

Even without makeup and sleep, she was still beautiful. He cursed his luck; she had been the girl of his dreams for years, but he'd never had the opportunity to be with her after she'd moved away, and he'd lacked the courage to tell her how he'd felt before then. And now, she was single once again, but he couldn't do anything. It was obvious that her heart was broken; no matter how hard she tried to act like she was fine she couldn't fool him. He would have kissed her, and she wouldn't have stopped him. He needed to get himself under control.

He turned to get ready for bed, creating a makeshift bed on the small couch. She whimpered in her sleep, and he felt the anger within him grow. Michael didn't deserve her; he had never deserved a girl like her.

As he lay down to attempt to get some sleep, his thoughts drifted back to his conversation with Takeru a few weeks ago. Had the blond known what was going to happen? He seemed so sure that the actor would eventually betray her, and Jyou wondered if he'd ever said anything to her about it. He remembered the fight the two had on the eve of her wedding; Takeru had tried to talk her out of it then. He wished he would have as well.

He sighed, trying not to think about how this could have been prevented. Mimi said that there had been nine other women from before and after they had gotten married. Michael had never been faithful, but he was the person who had been there for her most when her life turned upside down.

Jyou only wished that he would have had the sense to open his eyes and see the women that he was hurting before it was too late.

.o.0.0.o.

Thanks for reading! Please leave a review. I appreciate constructive criticism; flames are laughed at and deleted. Happy February!


End file.
